Cinematheque Of A Life In Black And White
by LilyBartAndTheOthers
Summary: Following classic French films, analysis of Karen's life during a stay in Paris.
1. Port of Shadows

_**"This could be the end of everything**_

_** So why don't we go**_

_** Somewhere only we know?"**_

_**Keane, Somewhere Only We Know**_

**_Port of Shadows_ (1938)**

**Movie director: Marcel Carné**

**Starring: Jean Gabin, Michel Simon, Michèle Morgan, Pierre Brasseur**

**Plot: a**** rundown tavern on a wind-scoured port side moor... A soulless hotel room overlooking the docks... The port of shadows is a night-time of empty provincial roads, of comfortless public houses and mean nightclubs, a grimy waterfront and its transient anti-community of petty crooks, ambitious gangsters, and life's losers, all drifting against the quay like week-old newspapers stirred by a resentful breeze. Now, there arrives in this gloomy limbo an emotionally maimed deserter from the army, and a beautiful young woman, on the run from life. How long they will survive in this fetid and tragic habitat, only a bored Destiny can know...**

**Quote: "You have to be an idiot to go on living with such discontent, such anxiety."**

**Paris, September 25th, 9.30pm**

The car lights embraced the asphalt of yellow and white luminous paths as the rain brought to the final effect its glimmering touch in the darkness of the night. Huddled on an antique armchair, she leaned her head against the window and approached her fingertips to it; followed the path of a rain drop.

If she closed her eyes and remained in that position, she could hear the rumors of the traffic outside and how the tires slid on the road, how a driver honked from time to time. There was a life a few feet away from her that she didn't seem allowed to ever touch, not even brush. A sort of boiling world she didn't belong to and that sharply contrasted with the silence of the suite.

If she had opened the door and had had a look at the corridor, her own breathing would have echoed against the walls; the immensity of the palace reducing her to an insignificant detail, almost invisible.

It was always the same. Five-star hotels pretended to bring a cozy atmosphere to your stay when all they actually did was to plunge you in a constant sentiment of extreme loneliness; the kind that only money could carry on, a powerful and irreversible one. Then you wander through its rooms without knowing why or who you were.

Luxury dismantled you little by little.

Succumbing to the jet lag, she slowly closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep until the phone began to ring in the background and made her jump of surprise. She hurried to it with a barely contained smile, took the call as she settled back in one of the sofas, in front of the fireplace.

Though as Will's voice resounded on the other end of the line, her sudden impatience died in the second for it not being the person she had been expected on the phone. At this moment she understood that one more time, Stanley wouldn't be back until very late in the night.

"Are you done with unpacking? Perhaps we could go to the restaurant of the hotel to have dinner."

She furtively cast a glance at her clothes abandoned haphazardly over the place then at the bed that was empty. She needed a cigarette, the effect of nicotine on her brain that would calm down her dark and impulsive feelings but she had no pack around for having promised to Stanley that she would stop her continuous smoking. He had never liked it.

"I don't know... I am rather tired to be honest. Though don't hesitate and go downstairs to have dinner if you are hungry."

"Is everything alright? You sound... Odd... Do you want me to stop by your room?"

"Will, you are here for my husband's affairs; not for me. I will see you tomorrow in the morning unless you are required by Stanley. Just have fun right now, enjoy your first night in Paris and that is it."

As silence floated over their conversation, she pictured her friend out in his own room; sitting down on his bed and not knowing what to say, what to do. She bit her lower lip and made a face.

She was the one to blame for that awkwardness.

"Alright... Though if you want some company for the evening, just give me a call or something. I am probably going to watch a movie on my own. You still can join me."

"I will think about it, thank you."

Of course she wouldn't.

As soon as they put an end to the call, she stood up and headed to the bathroom; got undressed and ran a bath. At least the hot water would have the credit to make her relax and forget about all these small, tiny details that weighed so much on her life; like the fact Stanley had booked a room for her that was not his, like his absence when she had arrived to the hotel with Will.

Sometimes she wondered why they had got married.

She forgot about her jet lag after the seventh glass of red wine, when the room began to spin around and her head turned light. She was already in bed by then, watching some black and white movie in French. She noticed the tears running down on her cheeks only once they made it to her mouth and she tasted their salt on her lips.

She grabbed the envelop on the bedside table, read it for the thousandth time.

_Welcome to Paris, Karen_

_Enjoy your time_

_Stan_

Then she called it a night, alone in the dark with the shadows of her so-called life.


	2. Jules and Jim

_**Jules and Jim**_** (1962)**

**Movie director: François Truffaut**

**Starring: Jeanne Moreau, Henri Serre, Oskar Werner, Sabine Haudepin**

**Plot: i****n 1912, in Paris, the French **_**bon-vivant**_** Jim meets the insecure German Jules and they begin a great friendship. When they meet the fickle and independent French Catherine, they immediately fall in love with her. However the naïveness and fragility of Jules attracts the amoral Catherine and she marries him. With the First World War, the best friends Jules and Jim are separated, but after the war they reunite in Jules' cottage in Germany. Jim stays with Jules, Catherine and their daughter Sabine, and Jules tells his friend that while he has lived with Catherine she has had affairs with several lovers. When Catherine falls in love with Jim, Jules asks him to stay with her at his house. Along the years, Jules and Jim live a triangle of love with Catherine, but never affecting their friendship and respect.**

**Quote: Catherine's plunge into the river so astonished Jim that he drew it the next day, though he didn't usually draw. Admiration for Catherine welled up in him and he sent her a kiss in his mind.**

**Paris, September 26th, 5pm**

She tightened her grip on the umbrella as they turned on their left and faced an unexpected, strong wind coming from nowhere. It hadn't stopped raining since the first hours of the morning, a fine shadow of water embracing their hands; running along their coats. Her stilettos resounded loud against the large, old cobblestones that streetlights seemed to caress in a damp shade. As much as it wasn't late in the day, the gray sky darkened the streets of a gloomy light that nonetheless found resonance and beauty against the golden fronts of the building.

"It is only a few feet away."

Her hazel eyes cast a furtive glance at Will who was walking by her side. He hadn't changed and was still wearing an elegant, Italian outfit with matching leather shoes; a satin tie. His offer to go for a walk after a whole day of business meetings with Stanley had surprised her, warming up her lonely and cold heart. She had accepted and very soon they had found themselves outside, under the downpour of Paris.

A blue door appeared on their left with multicolored and electric tinsels getting reflected on the asphalt through the old windows of the place. As they came in _ umbrella in hand _ a bell rang above them but if it surprised Will, Karen didn't seem to notice it and went straight to a specific table on the far end of the room; by the fireplace. They sat down, took off their coats and remained silent for a while as logs kept on crackling next to them.

A man burst out laughing a few tables away from them, then stood up to grab one of the books on the shelves that surrounded the room. He opened it, then showed a line at the woman who was with him; shaking his head vigorously.

"It is the first time I come here with someone."

"Is it a place you like going to?"

Rolling her eyes, she stared at the ceiling where a sky had been painted. An old tune of Ella Fitzgerald was playing in the background while the smell of homemade cakes slowly made its way to her nose. The features of his face seemed softened by the subdued lighting and the orange shades of the flames that danced next to them. She plunged her eyes in his, smiled.

"They don't mind you staying here for the whole day, having a tea; reading a book."

"I would have imagined you spending your whole time in Paris doing shopping. Not losing yourself in this old bookstore on The Left Bank."

"I found this place by accident, on a rainy day like this one. I was tired, needed to sit down for a while. Loneliness sounds less harsh with a book in hand instead of a credit card."

Her remark troubled him but she swept it away with a gesture of her hand then tended him the menu. She had spent the whole day alone, wandering through the floors and corridors of a five-star hotel until he had knocked on her door and made her gnawing boredom fly away.

It had been a long while now that for Stanley and her, Paris didn't look the same anymore.

"I recommend you their Christmas tea, as well as their chocolate cake..."

She ordered for them both in a perfect French that let him speechless; and made her blush. As the man went away with their order, she shrugged at Will and smirked, embarrassed.

"With all these travels, learning some languages is the least I can do. So, what kind of meetings did you have today?"

"Believe me, it isn't very interesting. Though I have the two next days off so we could do something if you want to. You come here rather often, don't you?"

"Well... It has become a classic through the years, indeed. Not that I don't like it but... Things used to be different. You know how it is; different times, different dreams."

"You sound... Melancholic, are you alright? Since we landed here, you are not the Karen I am used to. Is there something wrong?"

The flame in his eyes suddenly disappeared. She frowned before the change then bit the inside of her mouth as a bitter realization hit her mind.

"He asked you to entertain me, didn't he?"

The way her voice lowered on the use of the "he" obviously embarrassed him. Looking at the fireplace, Will laughed nervously then shrugged.

"He asked you to entertain me so that I don't get bored, so that I don't think about infidelity, so that I forget that he is never here and always on some business meeting. Am I right?"

"He is only worried, Karen."

"Please, save it."

The waiter brought their teas, along with two chocolate cakes. She patiently waited for him to go away before staring back in Will's eyes with a cold anger she could barely control.

"The only thing Stanley cares about is his company, Walker Inc. You know it as much as I do. And if I happened to have a lover, to go into some triangle story, he would only worry about the fact the rumors might damage his business empire then crash his so-called reputation on the market. See, it isn't even the fact I might end up in someone else's arms."

Will suddenly bent over, cupped her face in his hand then planted a kiss on her cheek; an apologetic one she nonetheless appreciated.


	3. Two or Three Things I Know about Her

**_Two or Three Things I Know About Her_**** (1967)**

**Movie director: Jean-Luc Godard**

**Starring: Joseph Gehrard, Marina Vlady, Annie Duperey, Roger Montsoret**

**Plot: i****n this film, 'Her' refers to both Paris and the character of Juliette Janson. The film is a kind of dramatized documentary, illustrating and exaggerating the emotionless lives of characters in the new Paris of the 60s, where commercialism mocks families getting by on small incomes, where prostitution is a money-spinning option, and where people are coldly resigned and immune to the human nightmares of Vietnam, and impending Atomic war.**

**Quote: our thoughts are not the substance of reality but its shadow.**

**Paris, September 27****th****, 2pm.**

"Don't move."

Her heel touched back the wooden floor _ suspending her upcoming step _ as she turned her head with a pinch of interrogation in her gaze.

"Don't look at me either. Keep on observing the statue."

"It is _La Petite Châtelaine_, not just some vulgar _ nameless _ statue."

But she nonetheless agreed and looked back at it, the delicate features of the face that marble seemed to have emphasized with an eternal grace. She had always loved it, fed herself with the innocence that the Claudel's sculpture spread in the middle of Rodin's house-museum; an old palace from the 19th century which gardens seemed to have always been created to welcome the masterpieces.

Sometimes she didn't even go on the first floor, only stopped by the salon next to the terrace then went outside to have a walk through the small paths, in the shadows of the trees. As long as she could see _La Petite Châtelaine_ she didn't really mind about the rest.

Will finally took the picture _ of her or the statue, she couldn't say _ then moved by her side to observe the sculptor's work.

Waking up to a fragile but nonetheless blue sky, they had decided earlier in the morning to settle down their visit over The Rodin Museum in order to take advantage of the gardens while the rain had left the city for a while. Before leaving the hotel, she had left a message to Stanley; like the two previous days.

She hadn't seen him yet since her plane had landed in France.

"Do you know the history of this sculpture?"

Will shook his head, obviously lying. She had heard him several times talk about History of Art and his knowledge was vast.

"In the summer of 1891, Rodin and Camille Claudel _ his student _ stayed at the château of l'Islette, in the Loire Valley. There, away from the eyes of the city, they found a discreet refuge, where their love could develop in happiness and serenity. Camille undertook a portrait of the granddaughter of the château's owner. _La Petite Châtelaine _was begun during the time of Claudel's intimacy with Rodin and completed after their physical relation ended. This work expresses Camille's increasing desire for artistic independence. The three summers spent in this peaceful retreat marked a turning point in Claudel's artistic life."

"It is a remarkable work."

"It illustrates an entire love story, a pure passion; from the sweetness of the beginning to the bitterness of the downfall. The craziness of an affair you can never really control..."

"You seem to know a lot of things about Rodin and Claudel."

She was about to answer when her cell phone vibrated in her bag. She hurried outside on the terrace to take the call, casting a last glance at the sculpture and apologizing to Will with a gesture of the hand.

He joined her out a few minutes later as she kept on observing blankly the doorknob of the French window. The call hadn't lasted more than thirty seconds.

"He always says that time is precious. Obviously it is a lot more than his own wife."

"Was it Stanley?"

"Hmm. He wants me to stop by his suite tonight, between six and seven. I am just an appointment more in his agenda..."

"I am sure that he will actually spend the evening with you."

"No, he never does while in business trips. Apparently he is too exhausted. I would prostitute myself that I wouldn't really notice any difference."

"I didn't know that things were going so bad between the two of you."

Growing uncomfortable, Karen shrugged and took the stair case leading to the garden paths. At least in New York, she had references to follow; some tricks that made her forget about her pitiful marriage. But abroad it seemed like the weight of the situation kept on pressing on her chest, over her mind and it all looked bigger; the balance more fragile somehow.

"You couldn't guess."

"Then why do you stay with him?"

As they arrived in front of _The Burghers of Calais_, she stopped and looked at the immense feet of the statue. The solidity emanating from them was unique, reassuring.

"Because he is all I have, even if sometimes I would prefer to sip a tea instead of satisfying him during his vacant time."

They didn't allude to Stanley for the rest of the afternoon and walked along the Seine quietly, talking about Jack and Grace and how they would love being there. They missed their friends, the logic of the balance they brought to each other once the four of them were reunited together.

It went beyond comprehension.

She passed the door of her suite a bit after seven, shoes in hand; headache bumping against her temples. As the water was running in the tub, someone knocked on the door. She opened it and let an employee bring on a porcelain cup with matching kettle.

"Here is your tea, Mrs. Walker. Please note the presence of a message along it."

Even though she waited for the man to go away before grabbing the piece of paper, she knew whom had written the message way before; and why.

_Enjoy your tea_

_and if you ever need to talk about anything_

_please remember that I am here_

_Will_


	4. Hotel du Nord

_**Hotel du Nord**** (1938)**_

**Movie director: Marcel Carné**

**Starring: Annabella, Louis Jouvet, Jean-Pierre Aumont, Arletty**

**Plot: a young couple, Renee and Pierre, take one night a room at the Hotel du Nord, in Paris, near the canal Saint-Martin. They want to die together, but after having shot at Renee, Pierre lacks of courage and ran away. Another customer, Monsieur Edmond, a procurer, rescues her. When Renee goes out of the hospital, she is hired as a waitress at the hotel. Monsieur Edmond falls in love with her, but Renee is still thinking of Pierre... **

**Quote: why did you save me? I won't miss next time.**

**Paris, September 28th, 4pm.**

They never made it to the Luxembourg Garden. As soon as they stepped out of the taxi, the rain began to pour heavily and so she grabbed his hand then ran towards a local movie theater. A bit taken aback, they looked at the schedule and the various posters _ old movies in black and white _ before resigning themselves to buy tickets for the very next one.

They took the stairs that led to the underground room, pushed the heavy doors only to face old, leather seats and a small white screen. The place was empty except for a young woman in the last row, reading some newspapers in the meantime.

Timidly enough, they chose their seats and sat down in silence. A soft music was being played in the background but if someone had cut it, the noises of the street would have never made it to their ears; only the rumor of the metro under their feet, with regularity.

"Would you have dinner at the restaurant with me, after?"

The question surprised her a lot for its unusual character. When in New York, Will avoided her as much as possible and would have never offered her to share a face-to-face meal. He would have preferred to remain alone and watch some movie on television.

"I am bored in the evening."

"Why don't you go out and meet people?"

"I don't speak French."

"Oh come on! They speak English..."

"Then what if I want to spend some time with you, for once?"

The music stopped as the lights got slowly turned off. She should have replied to his rhetorical question but the sudden darkness took away her last ounce of courage and she turned around to face the screen instead, swallowing back an odd sensation of discomfort, incomprehension.

The first image appeared, she put it all aside and concentrated on the movie.

The actors' accent was thick but she nonetheless understood the scenario, the main lines and how love could all of a sudden turned into the darkest tragedy of human souls. It was a timeless theme, universal as well unfortunately and even though Will didn't speak French, she knew that he could understand the whole story for having the same reactions as her, all along.

And when she shivered before a scene, she felt his fingers brushed hers with a delicate shyness. She let him do _ nonetheless troubled _ and as his hand finally pressed hers in the darkness of the room, she began to relax, against all expectations.

It sounded right.

…

The rain was still falling as they stepped out of the movie theater an hour and a half later under an odd, uncomfortable silence. If his gesture had seemed deprived of any importance in the dark, as soon as the lights had come back over the room _ taking away the trailers and the main characters forever _ it had all changed; suddenly. With a false logic she had immediately dropped his hand then pretended to look for something in her bag while standing up to leave.

"How about a tea at the hotel?"

Staring intently at the sidewalk, Karen nodded and tried to hide herself behind her umbrella. It wasn't timidity but confusion that pushed her to do so, as if some blurry thing was slipping through her fingers and yet she knew about the bad consequences it would bring.

"Let's take the metro."

"What?"

His incredulity made her smile. She shrugged it off immediately and frowned instead, nodding with fake determination.

"This is Paris, not New York City. It is impossible to find a taxi available in the streets with such a bad weather and at this time of the day."

They found two seats available as the alarm went off and the doors got closed in a metallic sound; the train moving off before disappearing in the dark, labyrinthine tunnels.

At the first contact of her knee with his, she stared at her leg without saying a word; then at his. They had already been that close _ in the past, in various situations _ but for some reason it all of a sudden turned very awkward.

They didn't talk until they passed the doors of the five-star hotel then settled down in the armchairs of the lounge, cup of tea in hand.

They were far from Manhattan, from their daily references; small wonder why it all sounded weird.

The mediocre conclusion nonetheless settled in her mind and she tried to convince herself that it was all because of the distance, a place they didn't know as theirs.

It might have been a placebo but it was still better than nothing at all.

"Did you like the movie?"

She looked at him take a sip of his tea, then nodding. They had arrived a few days before in Paris and they still had two weeks more to spend together there. What if they argued, as they always did? What if he refused to talk to her or she refused to talk to him? Swallowing hard, she tried to ignore the fragility of their friendship.

"There was something all along, in the atmosphere... It is still here, forty years later. This city owns a very peculiar aura as if time seems to have got suspended at times. It is strange and yet addicting that when you walk in the streets, you can have the feeling that you are back in the thirties. Then you would not be so surprised if you happened to meet one of the characters of the movie."

"Love and pain... I wonder why these two sentiments always have to be linked."

But Will didn't hear her remark as his cell phone suddenly rang and he stood up to take the call, leaving her alone at the table with her dark thoughts.


	5. Madame Bovary

_**Madame Bovary**_ **(1991)**

**Movie director: Claude Chabrol**

**Starring: Isabelle Huppert, Jean-François Balmer, Christophe Malavoy, Jean Yanne**

**Plot: i****n nineteenth-century France, the romantic daughter of a country squire (Emma Rouault) marries a dull country doctor (Charles Bovary). To escape boredom, she throws herself into love affairs with a suave local landowner (Rodolphe Boulanger) and a law student (Leon Dupuis), and runs up ruinous debts.**

**Quote: she had learned to be a woman for whom experience would always be a prison, and freedom would lie always beyond the horizon.**

**Paris, September 29th, 10pm.**

He sensed it. She could tell by the way he had looked at her as she had been about to leave the hotel a few hours earlier. There had been something in his eyes _ like an old flame of resignation _ that could have pushed her to change her plans within a second if he had asked but instead he had simply smiled before waving at her and disappearing in his suite.

This was the problem with Stanley. They never talked, never alluded to anything and preferred instead to let things go away by themselves no mattered they knew that it didn't happen at the end.

Perhaps they had simply accepted the fact that everything was over and they kept on ignoring the harsh, inevitable downfall.

She had closed the door behind her husband knowing perfectly that once they would be back in New York, he would probably ask for a divorce. Nothing had happened _ no infidelity, no lies _ but she had sensed in his gaze the realization that she had slipped through his fingers and that it was too late.

"Where are we going, anyway? It is dark, I can't see anything!"

If her five-minute face-to-face with Stanley had resulted cold and blank, Will's mysterious plans to take her out by night was exciting like a brand new lucky charm.

The rain had stopped falling as the night had embraced Paris but the cobblestones were still damp, and shining under the old streetlights.

"I swear that if I sprain my ankle because of your secretive plans, you are going to hear from me."

The light smile playing on her lips vanished as soon as he grabbed her hand to help her take some stairs down in a complete darkness. She could hear the rumor of The Seine somewhere below, on her left. It crashed against a wall, with regularity.

"Now I want you to close your eyes."

"Will... I know where we are. Besides we are in the dark, right now."

But she nonetheless obeyed, then let him guide her to a bench where they sat down together. A well-known sound of clicking glasses made her frown but she kept her eyes closed; rocked by the murmur of the traffic going on somewhere.

"Now you can look."

She opened her eyes to The Eiffel Tower glimmering two bridges away, right in front of her. It looked like silent fireworks, embracing the dark sky of multiple colors that stole to the stars the leading roles in the beauty of the night.

"It is beautiful."

"So you know where we are?"

Smiling, Karen nodded. She had come to Paris so many times _ got bored alone _ that she had found some places where to let the hours pass by. This one was one of them except Will had no idea about it.

"I like coming here though this is the first time I come by night."

"We are under the _Pont Neuf_, technically "the new bridge" when it is actually the oldest one in Paris. It was built in 1607, ordered by Henry IV. The park just above _ _Le vert Galant_ _ has been imagined in honor of the king who was called "The Green Gallant". It is said to be the saddest part of the city, only because of its teardrop shape that seems to disappear in The Seine."

"I am surprised that you didn't take me to _Pigalle_ instead..."

"You would have hated me for that."

His remark made her burst out laughing but as he tended her a glass of wine _ courtesy of their hotel _ she gave him a bright smile before accepting the drink.

"To Paris..."

She rose her glass, clinked it with his then took a sip; let the alcohol warm up her lungs and go to her head slowly.

"Would you be my attorney if I ever divorced from Stanley?"

"You want to get a divorce?"

"I don't know... Maybe... Not right now, though."

She shouldn't have asked him such a thing. It had ruined the moment, the lightness and sweetness of the evening; his attentive gesture to take her out of her boring routine with Stanley if only for a few hours.

"So... Are you happy to be here?"

Lame attempt to go back to a casual conversation...

"Well, I don't go to Paris every day..."

Suddenly the sound of a saxophone pierced in the background, making them jump; surprised by the unexpected melody. Someone was probably playing on the square opposite the park.

Quietly, Will stood up but instead of making a few steps on the path he turned around and offered his hand to Karen.

"May I have this dance?"

Stanley had never liked dancing. When they attended charity events and socialite parties, they remained down on their seats and looked at the others move on the dance floor with the only exception of Valentine's Day.

Yet it was just one waltz then they would go separate ways.

His hand was warm against hers and as she found herself against his chest _ in his arms _ Karen closed her eyes. He was leading the dance, with a bitter sweetness that went to her head dizzily.

That added to the wine and the last events, it must be why all of a sudden she captured his lips in a kiss.


	6. Belle de Jour

_**Belle de Jour**_** (1967)**

**Movie director: Luis Buñuel**

**Starring: Catherine Deneuve, Jean Sorel, Michel Picouli, Françoise Fabian**

**Plot: Severine is a beautiful young woman married to a doctor. She loves her husband dearly, but cannot bring herself to be physically intimate with him. She indulges instead in vivid, kinky, erotic fantasies to entertain her sexual desires. Eventually she becomes a prostitute, working in a brothel in the afternoons while remaining chaste in her marriage. **

**Quote: I have an idea. Would you like to be called _Belle de Jour_, since you only come in the afternoons?**

**Paris, September 30th, 2pm.**

How would have she managed to fall asleep after what had happened the night before? As much as she had laid down in bed and closed her eyes, her brain had refused to succumb to some dreams and instead had played over and over the scenario of the evening.

She had kissed him, broken apart, panicked, rushed away and locked herself in her suite; breathless and in pain.

He had knocked on her door, half an hour later, asked her to come in but she had remained quiet until he had abandoned and left.

Then it had just been guilt, incomprehension and a deep confusion about a life in ruins. But the light of the morning had finally pierced through the windows and so she had got up, remained under the shower for long minutes. Even though she wouldn't be able to hide herself from him for the two weeks left, her gesture had seriously weakened the rest of their stay in Paris; for a urge that had come from nowhere, wasn't acceptable.

She had never been unfaithful, never betrayed any of her friends or caused some damage to what she considered as privileges: friendship _ such a precious notion _ and trust.

But something had tipped over, within a second.

She didn't order breakfast and remained sat down on an armchair by the window most of the morning, observing the passers-by below on the avenue. But after a while, the top of their heads began to vanish under black umbrellas as the rain came back over the city. It seemed that the weather had turned them into a colony of ants walking around fast.

She got lost into the fascinating sight.

The disconnection with reality probably resulted to be the reason why _ as someone knocked on the door around 2pm _ she automatically abandoned her seat and went to open widely; only to face Will. It took her a couple of seconds to go back to everything, some acts that would never be deleted.

"Hey... Can I come in?"

"I... I don't know. I was about to... Go out for a while."

"Without makeup on?"

Running away from what looked now an inevitable conversation, she let him come in and closed back the door behind. Her heart was beating fast; her hands were shaking.

She wasn't fine.

Sitting down on an armchair in front of him, she began to twist her hands nervously and concentrated on her lap in the hope that it would make it all easier; vain attempt, for sure.

"I am sorry. I didn't want to cause this kind of things and... I guess it is just the consequence of a lot of things: jet lag, distance, lack of references, my marriage to Stanley... I don't know why I did what I did. Though I can assure that it won't happen again and I agree to just pretend that nothing happened. Let's keep that under silence and hopefully with the time, it will just go away. Far, very far..."

If Will had been one of the rare people to see her under a real light _ without any mask _ the fragility of her present speech nonetheless marked a change, an extreme one. There weren't stilettos anymore, even less alcohol or an unbearable high-pitched voice.

She was just Karen _ her last name disappearing with all the appearances it usually brought along _ and the woman sitting in front of him had few things to do with whom she always pretended to be.

"You shouldn't have rushed away from me."

His remark _ carried on with a troubling matter-of-fact easiness _ made her laugh nervously. She shook her head, frowned while casting a glance at the ceiling. She hated the silence of a five-star hotel. It was oppressive, left a cold and damp feeling.

"Oh yes, you are right. I should have stayed and begun to talk about the weather or how the lights of The Eiffel Tower were bright in the night."

"No, I just wish you would have stayed in my arms for a longer while. Maybe the whole night."

Her eyes landed on him just as the phone of her suite started ringing. She stood up immediately then rushed to it while a violent confusion was spreading in her brain and that blush was making it to her cheeks.

Stanley had left her a message at the reception. He needed to go to London for business and would be back by the end of the week.

She wished the call had lasted longer and so it would have postponed the moment she would have had to turn around and face Will, the last words he had said. He had stood up as she had been on the phone, approached her with a self-confidence that had troubled her a lot.

Could her life be more upside down than what the way it was at this moment?

"Look, obviously you are tired and you don't know what you say anymore so it might be better if you went back to your room and took some nap. I don't know what kind of game you are trying to play with me but... You won, alright? I gave up and yes, you are better than me. Superior... Whatever you want. Now, please... Leave me alone."

But he didn't. Instead he made a step closer then caressed her cheek as her pleading eyes locked with his and she shook her head vigorously.

"Please, go away, Will..."

She wished she had had the strength to push him away, pace to the door and open it with determination but she cruelly lacked the capacity to do so; the desire to be alone.

And for the second time in a very brief lapse of time, she felt the heat of lips on hers as he leaned over and made the last inches disappear through a kiss.


	7. The Lover

_**The Lover**_** (1992)**

**Movie director: Jean-Jacques Annaud**

**Starring: Jane March, Tony Leung Ka Fei, Frédérique Méninger, Melvil Poupaud**

**Plot: i****t is French Colonial Vietnam in 1929. A young French girl from a family that is having some monetary difficulties is returning to boarding school. She is alone on public transportation when she catches the eye of a wealthy Chinese businessman. He offers her a ride into town in the back of his chauffeured sedan, and sparks fly. Can the torrid affair that ensues between them overcome the class restrictions and social morals of that time? Based on the semi-autobiographical novel by Marguerite Duras.**

**Quote: It's me. I am always a little sad. I'm like my mother.**

**Paris, October 1st, 7.30am**

"I am old."

Her eyes locked on the mirror opposite the bed, she looked how he leaned up on his elbow behind her _ pushed a strand of hair away from her face _ and planted a kiss on her temple as his fingers were brushing her arm in the pale light of the morning.

They hadn't spoken that much since the previous day, when everything had tipped over and they had lost control over the situation. Her mouth hadn't left his except to wander through the rest of his body, just like her hands getting lost in caresses and sensations she had forgotten for a very long while. But as if the fragility of the moment depended on very few things, they had remained quiet in the fear that the slightest word could make it all fall down then break into pieces.

What would happen anyway as soon as they would pass the door of the suite and join reality again? It seemed like that it was just a lapse of hours lost in the effusion of life and the mere element could bring them back to a darker light.

She felt his leg pass over hers, his hand slide on her lower stomach as he settled down in the depth of her neck before staring at her in the reflection of the mirror. The image sent back was odd. They almost looked like a couple.

"You don't look old to me."

"But I am."

His voice was soft in the morning, low. The detail could have made her smile but the truth was that since they had kissed the day before, she had ceased to feel light.

She had slept with someone else than her husband and she hated that.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"I am thirty-nine."

The words sounded bare, abrupt and cold in the room. If she had been able to do so, she would have swallowed them back immediately and oriented the conversation over some light topic instead. Or just kiss him again, close her eyes to forget what was happening.

"You are barely two years older than me, then..."

"It goes above that. I don't know... It is in my eyes, my features. I look sad."

She had learned very early in life how to fool everyone with a smile. The act was simple in itself and didn't require that much of an effort. Then nobody imagined that behind it she could hide a lot more pain and doubts. Added to makeup and an imposing bearing, her smile completed a whole series of old appearances she had learned to accept as addicting habits.

But there she was all of a sudden, bare under the light; without makeup on, in the arms of a man she wasn't married to.

And when she wasn't smiling, the paleness of her face didn't look delicate but simply tired of having lived and missed out a lot of opportunities.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No... No, not at all. Just... Take me away, Will. Take me away from all of this if only for a day."

"What would you like to do?"

"I don't give a damn."

Though she was too afraid to go out, no mattered he would be by her side.

"Let's order breakfast, I am hungry."

But as she turned around and faced him, she forgot about everything; one more time. Her fingers went up his arm slowly, stopped on his shoulder.

She kissed him deeply.

His presence was comforting, his gestures and reactions reassuring after years of coldness and silence with Stanley.

Will made her feel alive and she hated it; for him not being the right one, for him remembering her of someone she had always despised. And pushed by the irony of life, she ended up being the exact same kind of woman.

When her father had passed away, her mother had found comfort in the arms of another man. She was just a child by then but the laughs and smiles her mother had had were still haunting her mind after all these years; just like this heavy wonder that had never left her.

How could she dare to feel alive with someone who wasn't the one she had married once?

But there she was now, repeating the story she had hated so much as a child. Perhaps it owned some logic if she paid attention to it. After all it was all she had known when building so-called references and running away from them might just have been pointless because they were mean to be.

Will passed on top of her and she held him tight, closing her eyes.

She hated herself for feeling so fine in his arms.


	8. Amélie

_**Amélie**_** (2001)**

**Movie director: Jean-Pierre Jeunet**

**Starring: Audrey Tautou, Mathieu Kassowitz, Isabelle Nanty, Dominique Pinon**

**Plot: "Amélie" is a story about a girl named Amélie whose childhood was suppressed by her Father's mistaken concerns of a heart defect. With these concerns Amélie gets hardly any real life contact with other people. This leads her to resort to her own fantastical world and dreams of love and beauty. She later on becomes a young woman and moves to _Montmartre_ as a waitress. After finding a lost treasure belonging to the former occupant of her apartment, she decides to return it to him. After seeing his reaction and his new found perspective - she decides to devote her life to the people around her. Such as, her father who is obsessed with his garden-gnome, a failed writer, a hypochondriac, a man who stalks his ex girlfriends, the "ghost", a suppressed young soul, the love of her life and a man whose bones are as brittle as glass. But after consuming herself with these escapades - she finds out that she is disregarding her own life and damaging her quest for love... **

**Quote: you don't have bones of glass. You can take life's knocks. If you let this chance pass, eventually, your heart will become as dry and brittle as my skeleton.**

**Paris, October 6th, 3.30pm**

In a last curve, the light of the day swallowed the darkness of the tunnel and flooded the train, coming to rest on their faces through a warm caress. Cuddled in his arms she pressed his hand tightly, opened her eyes to look by the window the streets of the city a few feet below the rails.

_Haute-couture _boutiques had been replaced by a multitude of second-hand stores which fliers littered the sidewalks and disappeared every since and then under the passers-by's feet. The contrast with the wealthy districts was sharp but brought another shade to the capital; a more realistic one, perhaps.

"Only the metro offers this perspective of Paris, an intricate patchwork of lives..."

"You are right."

The contact of his lips with the top of her head made her smile and she immediately responded to it by a kiss in the depths of his neck, embracing the scent of his skin; the one she was growing addicted to as the days were passing by.

When alone in her suite and facing her own reflection in a mirror, she wondered at times when things had changed, how the situation had managed to evolve in such a short lapse of time. Within a week the guilt had softened in her mind, never really disappeared but had become so blurry that it almost seemed insignificant now. Then Stanley had come back from London and she had been able to face him, to talk to him without the slightest remorse in her voice; only a pale bitterness that vanished in the air as soon as resignation invaded her brain in a final movement.

They never spent more than five hours apart, barely the necessary time Will required to fulfill his few professional obligations. The fusion of their relation might have been dizzying but for some reason, it had stopped scaring her for a while now and as soon as he appeared in front of her, she welcomed him with a bright, sincere smile.

She just wanted to be in his arms, to feel the heat of his body against her and the softness of his hand pressing her fingers as they walked in the streets together because as much as she had dreaded to go out with him at some point, it had now become one of her favorite moments.

And she felt proud to be with him, to be his if only for a while.

The elevator carried them away from the metro and a few steps later, they emerged under the pale sun of Paris piercing through the leaves of an old tree, next to a carousel where parents and children were standing in line to buy tickets.

She grabbed his hand and turned in a small street on their right where tourists joined Parisians in their daily walk through Montmartre. The district was boiling under an effervescence that seemed to have no comparison with other areas of the city, a sort of little village spirit where cars had been abandoned, got replaced by bikes and baby strollers rolling on the cobblestones of the streets.

"Do you mind walking around before settling down at a cafe?"

Will shook his head and they disappeared behind The Sacre Coeur to discover the heart of the area, the numerous little brick houses that overlooked Paris, where at the corner of a street time seemed to have got suspended.

Reaching an old wooden door, Karen pushed it and invited him to come in. The place looked like a labyrinth of trees and plants following the ground slope and leading up to a church hidden behind the luxurious vegetation.

"This is an aromatic and homeopathic garden. You are free to pick up whatever you want or need, from _belladona _to rosemary..."

She let him go wander through the garden then sat on a bench to wait for him. From her seat she could observe the woods that surrounded Paris, far in the background; like a green crown over a golden head, peppered with gray, blue points coming from the zinc roofs.

He came back to her a few minutes later, two poppies in hand.

"Here... This is for you. I know that you always say you hate flowers but the brightness of this one is a beautiful contrast to the paleness of your skin. Red suits you very well..."

She accepted it quietly but as if the pressure of his words had begun to weigh too much on her mind, she took him away to some cafe then settled against him; in the heat of his arms.

As much as she enjoyed being with him, talking about a few things still remained complicated.

"I don't want to go back to New York..."

The whisper hurt her throat but she didn't restrain the words and let them come out bitterly. They hadn't alluded to the inevitable return, to whatever it would mean for what looked like an incomprehensible fling. She didn't want to think about it but for some reason, she had still thrown it in the middle of the conversation, without any warning.

"We still have a week."

"And then?"

She felt his hand tighten on her waist but the gesture didn't make her shiver, barely react. She was too busy trying to ignore the tears that were brushing her eyes.

"Then... We will see... Who said that it just had to be in Paris?"

His words confirmed her doubts, the way she had always known that he would want to go on even if the background changed, along with the rules.

"What about Grace, and Jack? What about Stanley?"

"You mentioned an eventual divorce..."

"I was feeling down that day. Obviously you didn't have to take me seriously on this."

"Then what do you want exactly?"

Her eyes landed on the poppy she was holding. She observed the red petals with attention while Will's question stormed in her head, embraced her heart icily.

"This ring on my finger means a lot more to me than what you think... And I won't be the one putting an end to the story it symbolizes, no matters it isn't a perfect one and it is hard at times. I can't do that and I can't keep on doing to Stan what I am doing right now. This is a dead-end path, Will... And I will leave it behind with Paris when time has arrived."


	9. Wild Reeds

_**Wild Reeds**_** (1994)**

**Movie director: André Téchiné**

**Starring: Elodie Bouchez, Gaël Morel, Stéphane Rideau, Nathalie Vignes**

**Plot: in a village in the Southwest of France, 1962, Maïte and François are 18 years old. They are friends, not lovers. In François's classroom, there are Serge, whose brother has just married to try to escape from the war in Algeria, and Henri, a _pied-noir_ (Algerian-born Frenchman). François and Serge will have a homosexual relationship, but Serge wants to marry his brother's wife.**

**Quote: the death of a brother is tough. I thought I'd die. But there is something even tougher, tougher than war. It's that life goes on.**

**Paris, October 11th, 6.30pm**

"I will be right back."

She absorbed his words in a kiss and nodded at him as he left the suite for his own room. The night had already fallen over the city _ in the premises of winter _ and for long seconds she remained still, staring at the flames in the fireplace opposite her bed.

Time hadn't got suspended. Her silent wishes hadn't been heard by anyone and the day after they would leave Paris behind; with all the rest. Perhaps she would have loved him to deny her decision to put an end to everything as she had expressed it on their walk through _Montmartre_ the week before. Perhaps she had been waiting for nothing but him to resist and prove her that their fling could go on; that he cared about it. But he had never insisted, never protested against her choice and now that the last hours seemed to be flying away in a cruel indifference, it hurt; a lot.

Growing in discomfort before the oppressive silence of the room, she grabbed Will's digital cam and had a look at the photos he had taken all along their stay. If the shots had been able to get animated, the series would have looked like some old, black and white movie where she would have had the leading role, little by little as their own relationship had evolved. If the first pictures were chaste yet deeply focused on her, all the other ones reached a degree of intimacy that couldn't be seen as a mere friendship.

The screen turned dark at the end of the slide show and as she was about to turn off the device when two options appeared brightly in white.

She hesitated, her eyes fixed on the word "delete" but her brain unable to properly react, take the mere decision before it. Then all of a sudden she furiously went through the menu of the cam and selected an option before settling the device on top of the fireplace.

She sat down on the coffee table, just in front of the cam and took a deep breath while staring intently at the red point on the device. It was recording.

She intended a pale smile at the cam but her nervousness and the latent pain on her throat reduced it to ashes.

"October, 11th... 6.30pm... You have just left to pack your suitcases because our plane takes off early in the morning and you don't want to run into things, at the last minute. You are such a control freak!"

She let a laugh escape but it choked on her lips, sounded fake while hitting the air and for a brief lapse of time, she felt like stopping it all immediately; delete the message and pretend that she hadn't tried to do anything.

But the words came out before she had a chance to do it.

"I want to apologize and thank you at the same time... It might be odd, and awkward but I owe you so many things that this is the least I can do; even though a bit cowardly for not being in front of you. I... You know that I am not good with all these things and that my silence might be interpreted rather badly but I am not deprived of any kind of feeling... Especially after these two weeks. Perhaps in another life, under other circumstances, I would have given us a proper chance but right now this is just impossible for me. I will never regret what we lived, on the contrary. It had been such a long time since I had been able to... I don't know. If only for a few days, if only for a few moments, you gave a lot to my own very failed existence and let me believe that... That I am not so lonely. That perhaps like the reed, I can face the strongest winds without breaking down into pieces. "

She had forgotten the cam at that point and was now staring at her twisted hands on her lap with an odd indifference, rocked by the words that didn't stop coming out.

"The toughest isn't going to be the end of it, after this last night I want to spend in your arms before we come back to New York but the fact that life will nonetheless go on; no matters I may miss you. No... No matters it won't be the same without you."

His knock on the door made her jump then spread an icy panic throughout her body. She frowned, fixed the cam and swallowed hard.

"It wasn't the right time. We have always known it. Since the very beginning..."

Another knock; she stared at the door, bit her lower lip then shrugged at the cam, resigned.

"Since the very beginning."

Karen stood up, stopped the recording of the digital cam, threw it on the sofa, straightened her clothes and headed to the door of the suite.

She opened it, smiled at Will.

"I am sorry. I was on the phone with Stanley."


	10. Monsieur Ibrahim

_**Monsieur Ibrahim**_** (2003)**

**Movie director: François Dupeyron**

**Starring: Isabelle Adjani, Omar Sharif, Pierre Boulanger, Isabelle Renauld**

**Plot: In a street called Blue in a very poor neighborhood in Paris, Monsieur Ibrahim is an old Muslin Turkish owner of a small market. He becomes friend of the teenager Jewish Moises, tenderly nicknamed Momo, who lives with his father in a small apartment on the other side of the street. Monsieur Ibrahim gives paternal love and teaches the knowledge of the Koran to the boy, receiving in return love and respect. **

**Quote: a man's heart is like a caged bird. When you dance, your heart sings... And then rises to Heaven. **

**New York, October 12th, 3pm.**

The sky was blue but didn't send back any golden shade against the buildings. Instead they remained bare, and abrupt in all their metallic coldness deprived of the strength that only the succession of long centuries could bring. The sidewalks were large and lacked intimacy, the asphalt having replaced the cobblestones that used to shine under the rain; the ones they had walked on for the past two weeks.

New York had nothing to do with Paris and all of a sudden the transition turned harsh, too fast as if the flight hadn't resulted enough for her to properly turn the page over everything. She nonetheless kept on observing the streets by the window of the cab, just to avoid his own eyes.

They crossed Central Park and she began to think about the multitude of small gardens they had walked through, hand in hand under the thin fabric of a black umbrella. She had always loved Manhattan but for some reason and for the very first time the immensity of the place only emphasized the impersonal character of the city when all she was looking for now were references and a sentiment of intimacy.

The taxi stopped on Riverside Drive. She furtively looked at Will opening the door but as he was about to step out, he turned around and captured her lips. For a few seconds life got suspended, taken away by the beats of her heart.

He broke apart, stared into her eyes.

"Goodbye..."

The door got slammed. She clenched her fists tight.

…

Nothing had changed. As she stepped into the lobby of her Upper East Side mansion, the silence of the large rooms wrapped up her throat, sent a shiver down her spine and reduced her already broken heart to simple ashes as the scent of Stanley's cigars made it to her nose.

Rosario appeared in the corridor leading to the first floor, hands in her back; waiting for the usual wave of critics with a troubling calm. But the words didn't come out and instead Karen shook her head before looking down at the floor a bit disarmed.

"My husband will be back on Sunday. Please make sure that his office will be ready by then. You know how he can't stand not having the daily newspapers as well as a box of Cuban cigars. If you need me, I will be upstairs having a bath."

"What would you like to have for dinner?"

"Nothing, I am not hungry."

The warmth of the water on her body didn't change anything. She still could feel his lips on hers and a deep weight on her chest. Nothing sounded right anymore. It was all upside down, deprived of logic, of fairness. Within two days she would be back into her depressing routine, by her husband's side and they would go from party to party pretending to be alright, delighted.

For a few seconds she thought about calling Jack and inviting him over but the truth was that she was not in the mood to see the mere person, to hear the slightest sound of life. The echo of missed chances, missed opportunities, was enough for the moment; haunting her mind painfully.

From an armchair in the library she observed the night fall over New York, how the buildings vanished under a million lights and very soon they started glimmering like a veil of tears in the dark.

As much as she concentrated on a very distinctive task, she couldn't help thinking about him. She missed his voice, the sweetness of his presence by her side; the paths his fingers traced haphazardly on her skin as his lips planted trails of kisses in her neck, stifling delighted laughs.

She wondered if he had found her message on his digital cam, if he had watched it or just deleted it right away because now they had left Paris, it didn't mean anything anymore. But when she closed her eyes, she imagined him sitting on the couch with Grace, talking and laughing a glass of wine in hand as if there was nothing to regret. And he was just happy to be back home, with his real friend when she had simply found back her loneliness.

She was married, he preferred men and then there was this past he shared with Grace. It was doomed to failure, since the very beginning. They lacked the proper elements to make it work seriously.

Growing in boredom and sadness she headed to bed quietly and was settling under the duvet when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it, opened the message and held back her tears.

_You should be by my side, tonight_

_How am I going to reach my dreams_

_If I don't get the chance to hold you tight_

_Against me?_

_Will_

She read his message twice, swallowed hard but finally deleted it before putting her cell phone back on the bedside table. She turned off the lights.


	11. Client

_**Client**_** (2008)**

**Movie director: Josiane Balasko**

**Starring: Nathalie Baye, Josiane Balasko, Isabelle Carré, Catherine Hiegel**

**Plot: Marco leads a double life. As Marco, he is a construction worker but rich ladies craving sexual excitation know him as Patrick. As Marco he is married to Fanny, an ambitious young woman who has opened her own hairdressing salon in partnership with her friend Rosalie. Marco/Patrick is not a male prostitute at heart: in fact he does the job in order to support his wife's business. Which doesn't prevent Judith, an elegant tele-shopping presenter who buys his services, from falling in love with him. But when Fanny learns what Marco does and with whom, she first gets mad but soon starts interfering in their affair. **

**Quote: I only do that for pleasure. I earn enough with the rest.**

**New York, October 16th, 2pm**

She had plunged her face in the depth of his neck but the gesture had sounded bare, a bit pointless. She had held his hand _ her fingers traveling along his _ but she hadn't found back any of the references she had grown accustomed to when in Paris. They had kissed, briefly enough and she had realized that Jack would never be Will; no mattered how hard she tried.

Before her lack of enthusiasm Jack had left rather early only to get replaced by Stanley, passing by and dropping a stolen kiss on her forehead before disappearing in his office.

He was a nice man _ a nice husband _ but cruelly dedicated to his work when all she was looking for had been attentive gestures, a honest smile from time to time. With Stanley she always had the feeling that she owed him everything, that it was all calculated to match his agenda pages. It wasn't frustrating but bitter, and disturbing.

The rest of the weekend had passed by very slowly, buried under a thousand wonders about Will. She hadn't replied to his text message and from then on her cell phone had remained quiet, deprived of the slightest sign of hope. It was just bare and boring like her life.

She lied to Grace when she arrived at work in the first hours of the morning on Monday, pretending she needed to stop by the office and pick up some papers then fax them to Stanley but the truth was that she had never been so glad to have a good excuse to run away from her penthouse; a few things to focus on as well in order to forget about Will.

It didn't work that much but she nonetheless played along and accepted Grace's invitation for lunch. It was an odd company that her friend's one, a feminine touch she hadn't had for a very long time. As a matter of fact, she had always got along better with men but the atmosphere settled down in Paris had begun to turn suffocating and by Grace's side, the weight on her chest suddenly vanished in the air.

She enjoyed their meal, the complicity the years seemed to strengthen little by little between the two of them. Her relation to Grace was proving her that she might have been wrong for a very long time and she did need a female friend by her side, even though there were a couple of things that she wouldn't be able to share properly.

Paris should have never happened. She had betrayed Grace, silently damaged one of her rare and yet so important friendships.

She came back to the office with the determination to definitely turn a page over Will, to stop thinking about him and concentrate instead on her marriage, on relations that were worth it. But as if life hadn't been ironical enough _ harsh _ her quiet resolutions fell down like a house of cards as she passed the door of the office and landed her eyes on her desk. She even stopped walking, swallowed hard instead while Grace had kept on laughing lightly.

"Are you okay? You are very pale..."

Grace finally noticed the sudden change after long seconds of complete ignorance. She had already sat down on her stool, taken her coat off and grabbed a pen, ready to work on some sketches.

As her legs had begun to shake, Karen had sat down as well but her lungs were now desperately asking for air. She was suffocating, her eyes fixed on the withered poppy she was now holding in hand; a red ribbon tied around the stem.

He had stopped by the office when she had been out with Grace for lunch. If for a few seconds she got uncertain about the reason of his presence there, the poppy he had left _ their poppy, the one he had kept from their day in Montmartre supposed to match the one he had given her _ made it all clear; too much, perhaps.

"Yeah, I... I am okay. I am fine."

But she suddenly stood up, dropped out the poppy that landed silently on the floor and hurried to the toilets, locking the door loudly behind her.

He shouldn't have stopped by. She shouldn't have kissed him that night in Paris only to fall in his arms a few hours later to sign what looked like a demise now.

It should have been a game, a sort of peculiar pastime between two lonely people looking for nothing but the evidence they were still alive and not just observing their lives fading away before their eyes.

And the most important...

It shouldn't have been hurting right now. She shouldn't have found herself stifling her cries from her friend, staring in the mirror how the tears run down her face, spreading over a deep sadness.


	12. Beautiful Mother

_**Beautiful Mother**_** (1999)**

**Movie director: Gabriel Aghion**

**Starring: Catherine Deneuve, Vincent Lindon, Mathilde Seigner, Line Renaud**

**Plot: ****Who is the worst person you could fall in love with, and what would be the worst moment to fall for them? Antoine has decided to make an honest woman of his girlfriend, pregnant Séverine, but during the ceremony he sees a beautiful woman and falls instantly in love. The woman in question happens to be Séverine's mother, Lea. Lea seems to be more than a bit interested in Antoine as well, but she already has a boyfriend, Grégoire, a native of the Caribbean island Lea now calls home. This potentially messy situation just gets sloppier when they all travel to the Bahamas together to celebrate the 70th birthday of Lea's mother, Nicou, a tart-tongued lesbian with a taste for cigars.**

**Quote: Which flavor do you prefer, chocolate or vanilla? Vanilla? Then why do you start with chocolate? What if you die at the scene, between chocolate and vanilla? It is terrible to die with the taste we like the least in mouth.**

**New York, October 21st, 1.30pm**

"What happened in Paris?"

The question gave a very bitter taste to the sip of coffee she had in mouth. She made a face, swallowed hard the drink and tried to ignore the heat that had rushed up her cheeks, the oppressive discomfort that had been stirred up within the lapse of four words.

"What do you mean?"

As she locked her eyes with Grace's, she noticed for the first time the distress in her friend's gaze but the depth of the shade clearly indicated that it had been there for a while yet. She just had completely missed it until then, too preoccupied by an irrepressible guilt.

"Did Will meet someone? Did he... I don't know, did he live something with someone?"

"Why do you ask me that?"

"Why don't you answer?"

Behind the flame of her lighter, Karen shrugged at her friend _ resigned _ and let the nicotine go down to her lungs with the quiet hope to win some time before giving any kind of reply. She had never liked smoking but it happened to be an excellent weapon in many occasions; to hide a heavy boredom, a lack of interest in a conversation or as in this case, uncontrollable shaking hands.

"What I know? It is not like we were supposed to be together twenty-four hours a day. He might have met someone at some point but I don't see why I would know better about it than you."

"You were there. I wasn't."

"But I am not his Gracie..."

A waiter appeared and she quietly asked him for the check with a nod of the head.

When Grace had offered her to go for a lunch, she had gladly accepted, eager to escape from the Upper East Side mansion on a Saturday when her husband received the visit of his children. She had always hated these moments for them doing nothing but emphasizing the idea that she wasn't at the right place, among the right family. These people weren't hers and she wasn't theirs.

They didn't belong to each other and her marriage was fake.

"Then obviously I am not either because he won't tell me anything. I can see that he isn't doing fine and that something is bothering him but as soon as I try to dare the slightest allusion, he gets mad and runs away from me. I don't know why... I don't know why he suddenly stopped trusting me... But it hurts... I feel like I am losing him."

The waiter brought the check and she grabbed it immediately, slipping her American Express in it; not having a single glance at the amount. She didn't mind. Grace's words had troubled her and she felt very bad.

"It might not have to do with his sentimental life but his work. Some stressing case, I don't know..."

"No, I am sure that he met someone; that something happened and this is the reason why Will is sad."

"Then obviously if it had been serious, he would have told you about. You are way too important to his eyes... If he had met the right one, you would have been the first to know. Perhaps it is just a fling. Was a fling, I mean."

"He always tells me when he meets some guy, even if it is nothing serious. There must be something, this time."

"What if it is a woman?"

Her boldness lost its strength as the words hit the air and she panicked, feeling incredibly stupid to orient the conversation on such a dangerous path. What had she thought about? What had she expected with that? She clenched her fist and took a long drag on her cigarette, the smoke bringing tears to her eyes.

"Excuse me? We are talking about Will... He doesn't date women, may I remind you."

"Then what about Diane?"

"She was a mistake! What... I don't see your point, Karen. I am being serious, why are you making fun of this conversation? Don't you see that I am hurt by what is happening?"

She remained quiet for a few seconds, and tried to sweep away Grace's comment but it kept on sticking to her mind, feeding her guilt of strength and bitterness.

"Then talk to him, I don't know... I am not that good at relationships. Look at Stanley and I, we argue constantly. Though if there is something that I have learned through the years is that communication is the key. Without it, you will only end up failing."

As she walked down the main corridor a couple of hours later at the mansion, she overheard Stanley's voice coming from the library. She stopped, then looked by the door left ajar how he was playing with Olivia and Mason; how he looked happy.

She didn't join them and headed straight to her bedroom instead, walked to her closet before sitting on a sofa in the middle of the room. Very slowly she turned around and let her fingers brush a vase set down a pedestal table until they made contact with the red, withered petals.

The poppies looked bare, too fragile.


	13. An Affair of Love

_**An Affair of Love**_** (1999)**

**Movie director: Frédéric Fonteyne**

**Starring: Nathalie Baye, Sergi Lopez, Jacques Viala, Paul Pavel**

**Plot: they recount their impressions to the Interviewer. They met through a magazine ad, She and He. They corresponded through the Internet. He responded to her ad seeking someone to fulfill her fantasy for "a pornographic affair". This is their first meeting in a Paris cafe. He's a little reticent. She wants to know whether or not he's hairy (he is; he's Spanish). They retire to a nearby hotel room. The door of the room closes. Unseen, the affair is consummated... They continue to see one another regularly each week. They find they get along well together. Soon she suggests that they try normal sex next time...**

**Quote: for a second you gave it all to me.**

**The Hamptons, October 31st, 8pm.**

The velvet curtain brushed her bare back as she abandoned the contemplation of the park through the window of her bedroom and headed to the nearest mirror instead. The subtle touch sent a shiver down her spine, almost made her realize that she was still alive and sober enough to enjoy the evening or at least pretend so; no mattered Stanley and her had argued a few hours before.

It just didn't work anymore. Their efforts sounded too artificial to stir up anything but regrets that ended up vanishing in the air in a whirl of frustration. And then they yelled at each other, exchanged virulent words they didn't even think were true and deserved in the first place but it nonetheless brought an odd sentiment of relief at the end; if only for a short hour.

Looking at her own reflection in the mirror, she grabbed a few hairpins and delicately tied her hair back in a low bun; a rather strict one. The paleness of her complexion seemed to shine under the bare light of her bedside table lamp and as her deep red, Chanel lipstick embraced her lips she couldn't help smiling under the livid shade of her face.

She looked like a ghost, the darkness of her hair contrasting sharply with her flesh. If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn that she might actually be dead and was now wandering between two very different universes but the weight on her chest _ the pain of her insomnia _ and her constant thinking about Will broke down the fantasy, letting her understand that she was still in the real world.

Someone knocked on the heavy oak door, the gesture resounding loud in the quiet room. She stood up, adjusted her black cloak and matching corset-dress for the last time and grabbed a velvet mask before opening to Jack.

Against all expectations, he had followed the rules of the party very strictly and was wearing a black tuxedo with matching cloak, a velvet mask in hand.

She had always hated Halloween, always hated dressing up on a night supposed to celebrate the dead and all the people you actually missed but before the tensions between her and Stanley, she had finally accepted Grace's invitation to spend the weekend at a friend's Victorian house in The Hamptons.

"Are you ready?"

"Like I have a choice..."

She hadn't wanted to spend the evening with Olivia and Mason, to pretend they were a family when the children couldn't stand her and made her feel uncomfortable. At least with her friends, she could lose herself in alcohol and go back to bed without anyone noticing it; early enough in the evening.

As they made their way to the main staircase that led to the basement, they crossed a dozen of guests, all playing along the dress code of the party _ long black cloak and matching tuxedo or corset-dress, a velvet mask on _ and gave a special atmosphere to the old manor. The lights had been turned down and replaced by chandeliers and candles, music coming from the large ball room downstairs.

Her eyes landed on his the second she reached the marble floor of the hall. He was standing there, next to Grace; a mask in hand.

Almost three weeks had passed by since Paris but Will hadn't left her mind yet. He had turned into an obsession as soon as she had decided to put an end to their affair. They hadn't talked about anything, just pretended that nothing special had happened and kept on behaving with each other randomly when in public.

Their silence might have been the one of cowardice but she couldn't help it and even managed to find some relief in it, a very temporary one but still, she preferred it to any sort of confrontation with him.

Respecting the host's rules they put their velvet masks on and stepped into the ball room, losing all of a sudden their identity among the crowd of ghostly twins.

"I am going to have a drink. Obviously the first one of a long series..."

She abandoned her friends behind and made her way through the crowd of dancers, people talking in groups all over the place. Martini in hand, she turned around and observed the scene, wondering how may guests had accepted the invitation for having turned the place into an odd replica of some Venice carnival before the real date.

She was heading to a corner of the ball room when a hand slid on her waist, made her jump. Holding a gasp, she turned around and was about to make a remark when she recognized his brown eyes behind the velvet mask. She took another sip of vodka, cast a glance aside but didn't manage to recognize any of her other friends in the crowd. Grace and Jack could have been by her side that she wouldn't have been able to say because of the identical costumes, the multitude of black masks.

"What do you want?"

"Why did you not text me back? Why did you not react when I left the poppy on your desk? You don't have to ignore me, Karen."

"Because I have turned the page..."

She swallowed hard as his hand became more insisting on her waist and he pushed her aside, near a door that led to the main hall.

"I don't believe you."

"Well, I don't see what I can do for you, honey..."

"Just give me a night. A last one."

The music changed and got louder, pounding against her chest. She looked down, and bit the inside of her mouth while the words refused to come out. His hand cupped her face. She clenched her fists with rage then shook her head at him.

But just like in Paris, she let him lean over to plant a kiss on her lips and from then on, everything kind of disappeared, ceased to be within a second.

Sighing in his mouth, her fingers got intertwined with his until she firmly held his hand _ broke apart _ and led him out of the ball room, to some quieter place.


	14. The Rules of the Game

_**The Rules of the Game**_** (1939)**

**Movie director: Jean Renoir**

**Starring: Nora Gregor, Paulette Dubost, Mila Parély, Odette Talazac**

**Plot: Aviator André Jurieux has just completed a record-setting flight, but when he is greeted by an admiring crowd, all he can say to them is how miserable he is that the woman he loves did not come to meet him. He is in love with Christine, the wife of aristocrat Robert de la Cheyniest. Robert himself is involved in an affair with Geneviève de Marras, but he is trying to break it off. Meanwhile, André seeks help from his old friend Octave, who gets André an invitation to the country home where Robert and Christine are hosting a large hunting party. As the guests arrive for the party, their cordial greetings hide their real feelings, along with their secrets - and even some of the servants are involved in tangled relationships. **

**Quote: Love, as it exists in society, is merely the mingling of two whims and the contact of two skins. **

**The Hamptons, October 31st, 11pm**

His hand was warm against hers and that must be why she didn't let go of it as they ran up the staircase before making it to her room on the first floor; crossing unrecognizable guests in the long corridor. She felt how her heart suddenly sped up its pace as he pressed her against the door and eagerly captured her lips in a long kiss.

She closed her eyes and let her fingers wander through his chest, his lower back before brushing up his spine like in an old reminiscence of some prohibited past. She gasped in his mouth as his hand grabbed her thigh firmly and he positioned himself between her legs.

She wanted him. As bare and abrupt as it sounded, she simply needed to feel his flesh under the palm of her hands, under her lips swollen by their long kisses.

His clothes very soon turned into a frustrating obstacle and as they made their way to the four-poster bed, she unbuttoned his shirt _ unzipped his pants _ then smiled in his mouth as her fingertips finally made contact with his skin.

She had missed him more than she would have ever imagined it being possible. His touch almost ached and burnt _ spreading melancholy over her soul _ and it is only when she laid down with him on top of her, as they discarded their respective masks, that she properly looked at him in the eyes; just like in the crucial scene of some movie when time seems to get suspended as the characters analyze what they are about to do, the sequels to their acts.

But in real life, in her own real life, it barely lasted a few seconds before she found back the heat of his lips against her mouth.

It was all in his caresses _ the way he sighed in her neck as her foot went up his ankle _ and his fingers brushing her skin while he was undressing her. She would have died to pass underneath his skin, stay there and close her eyes until the beats of his heart began to rock her to sleep. She didn't let go of him, never broke an inch away from his bare body _ restraining a gasp when his lips reached her inner thighs _ and his hands cupped her breasts, stealing away her breath.

She let him do all along, responded to his caresses with a boldness she had never experienced before. It might have surprised most of the people who gravitated in her own world but she had always been very shy in the intimacy of a bedroom, a thousand wonders and doubts weighing on her mind and preventing her from giving it all as she was now.

She held him tight and captured back his lips in a long, deep kiss as they completed the fusion of their bodies then abandoned herself to the chaos of her senses that his thrusts kept on building as the minutes were passing by.

If she had been able to have a hold over her life, she would have chosen this exact moment, just before succumbing to the final paroxysm of her feelings and shivering against him, in his arms. A sentiment of invincibility seemed to have grown within her, bringing strength to her hopes and dreams and all of a sudden her existence had lit up every single one of its meanings; why she was there, why she was born and would keep on breathing for a long time.

Hopefully by his side.

…

She was brushing her hair in the mirror of her bathroom when someone knocked on the door. As much as she had applied makeup, the lack of sleep was obvious on her face and her features were deep; her lips still swollen by his kisses.

Hands in the pockets of her bathrobe she crossed the room and opened only to find herself facing an impatient Grace, tapping nervously on the carpeted floor with her feet.

"Good morning, Gracie."

"Can I come in? I need to talk. I need to tell you something."

"Sure..."

She looked how her friend headed straight to sit down on the edge of the four-poster bed, just where an hour before Will had kissed her for a last time then left after they had made love in the pale light of the morning as if to close a sleepless night of sighs and caresses.

"I couldn't sleep. I hope I haven't awaken you or something..."

"No, it is fine."

But a latent panic had spread over her mind before Grace's obvious discomfort and with uncertainty she sat down on a chair, falsely relaxed.

"I saw Will kiss someone last night, in the ballroom. It was dark and we were all dressed up alike but I know it was him. Besides he disappeared after that and never went back to me. But the thing is... It is... It goes beyond that. Do you remember the talk we had a few weeks ago, when I asked you about Paris and all? Do you remember your suggestion? Well, you were right. As much as I have no idea who Will was kissing yesterday, I can tell you that it was a woman. She grabbed his hand, they went away... I ran after them but because of the crowd I didn't find them back. He spent the night with a woman, Karen... And you know what? I am not mad. I can't. Because he broke my heart."


	15. Three Colors: Blue

_**Three Colors: blue**_** (1993)**

**Movie director: Krzysztof Kieslowski**

**Starring: Juliette Binoche, Benoît Régent, Hélène Vincent, Florence Pernel**

**Plot: Three Colors: Blue is the first part of Kieslowski's trilogy on France's national motto: Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity. Blue is the story of Julie who loses her husband, an acclaimed European composer and her young daughter in a car accident. The film's theme of liberty is manifested in Julie's attempt to start life anew free of personal commitments, belongings grief and love. She intends to spiritually commit suicide by withdrawing from the world and live completely independently, anonymously and in solitude in the Parisian metropolis. Despite her intentions, people from her former and present life intrude with their own needs. However, the reality created by the people who need and care about her, a surprising discovery and the music around which the film revolves heals Julie and irresistibly draws her back to the land of the living.**

**Quote: Now I have only one thing left to do: nothing. I don't want any belongings, any memories. No friends, no love. Those are all traps. **

**New York, November 3rd, 8.30pm**

The place was extremely noisy _ from the waiters' steps to the brouhaha of the conversations, the wine being poured in a multitude of glasses _ but owned a convivial atmosphere that embraced your heart warmly as soon as you passed the doors and sat down on the old sofas, the old wooden chairs. Besides, what kind of restaurant could remind her of Paris more than this downtown brasserie?

He had let her choose the place, schedule the date but yet had insisted on the fact they needed to talk, to settle down a couple of things perhaps. Nothing had happened since Halloween. Just like after France, they had come back to their lives and spent most of their time avoiding each other, remaining quiet and confused over a situation that had completely escaped them.

Obviously her cowardice had been stronger than his since he had been the one breaking down their odd silence, a very shameful one and dared to ask her for a face-to-face almost immediately.

Growing in discomfort before the promiscuity the small table provided, Karen observed the waiter go away with their order and avoided thus Will's gaze she could feel heavy on her. It was disturbing, fair enough though.

"So... I don't know what to tell you."

Her hazel eyes landed on her glass of wine, her fingertips following its shapes in a delicate brush as her words hit the air with embarrassment. She hadn't said anything to Stanley, only grabbed her bag before hailing for a cab in a perfect anonymity, heading downtown to see the man she hadn't stopped thinking about; the one she had slept with, lust for quietly.

"I want to be with you."

The sudden touch of his hand on hers and his direct words made her jump, and blush but she let him do nonetheless, studying the way his fingers matched hers; feeding herself with his heat. She missed him. The conclusion was bare and cruel but she couldn't help it. She missed him more than anything.

"Don't be ridiculous, I am married."

"Then get a divorce. Anyway, you don't love him."

His self-confidence made her laugh and for the first time she finally locked her eyes with his, frowned. He looked serious, sweet enough but incredibly serious.

"This is not so easy. This is... You said that you wanted a night, just one. You got it."

"You know what I meant. We all know what this sentence actually means. I want you, Kare. I want to hold you tight, feel you against me. I want to make love to you and I don't give a damn about the rest or anything."

Her cheeks suddenly burnt and she desperately cast a glance at the table on their right but the couple sat there didn't seem to have noticed Will's words, the degree of intimacy he had dared to mention in such a crowded place on a Tuesday evening.

"The circumstances... They play against us, I am sorry. You know it, as much as I do. So it is better to just forget about it and concentrate on whatever life is supposed to be; no matters it is all fucked up and complicated."

"What are you afraid of? I just... I just want to be with you. We would do well together. We already do. It isn't easy, indeed, but who cares?"

"Well you forget about Stanley, about my life... About Jack, and Grace! Do you imagine what it would mean if we all of a sudden started dating or whatever? Do you realize about the consequences it would bring over? And who knows... What if we actually did all these things and it didn't work at the end? We would be left with nothing, no friends and no references. It took me so long to get all of this that I can't afford to ruin it all for something that might not be anything else than a mere fling."

As if the harshness of her comment hadn't been enough, the waiter came back with their dishes, putting their conversation on an obliged pause, an uncomfortable one. Though against all expectations, it didn't change any of Will's convictions who suddenly leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips as the young employee went away, wishing them to enjoy their meal.

"Give us a chance before renouncing entirely. And if we have to hide then let's do it. Just take your time but don't turn down what life keeps on bringing because one day, you might miss out your only chance, the right opportunity."

They rented a room for the rest of the evening, released all their feelings through sighs and caresses; in the dark, a bitter anonymity. When they found back the coldness of the street a few hours later, it had started snowing.

"What did you tell Grace for tonight when she noticed that you were going out?"

They reached Broadway and hailed a cab. The car stopped immediately and as much as she opened the door, she still waited for his reply.

"I told her that I would be with you, at the restaurant. I didn't lie, just not precise that you wouldn't be a client tonight."

His hand slid on her waist and she closed her eyes, anticipating the kiss that within a few seconds came to caress her lips. The snow drops were icy on her skin, contrasting so much with the heat of his body.

He broke apart, pushed away a strand of hair from her face.

"Goodnight."

She stepped into the car, slammed the door and gave her address to the driver before looking by the window only to realize that he had already gone away. The traffic was dense on Broadway but a weight on her chest slowed down her desire to go back home anyway, to face an absent marriage; her guilt towards her friends.

There were days when she wished she could just forget, delete everything and disappear without a trace so she would feel relieved and get another chance to start it all over from the very beginning.

There wouldn't be any mistake.


	16. The Last Metro

_**The Last Metro**_** (1980)**

**Movie director: François Truffault**

**Starring: Catherine Deneuve, Gérard Depardieu, Jean Poiret, Sabine Haudepin**

**Plot: Paris, 1942. Lucas Steiner is a Jew and was compelled to leave the country. His wife Marion, an actress, directs the theater for him. She tries to keep the theater alive with a new play, and hires Bernard Granger for the leading role. But Lucas is actually hiding in the basement... **

**Quote: It takes two to love, as it takes two to hate. And I will keep loving you, in spite of yourself. My heart beats faster when I think of you. Nothing else matters. **

**New York, November 8th, 9pm.**

She had been drinking for a while, sat down on the floor; trapped between the coffee table and the sofa. Alcohol had gone to her head but it was when she felt fine, light and almost invisible. Then she forgot about the rest and dared to smile with sincerity to anyone. Drowning herself in vodka was a lot easier at the end; no mattered the world sounded blank.

"What do most women do when making love: they yell, they close their eyes or they bite and scratch?"

"What I know? I don't sleep with them!"

If there was something she had learned through the years, it was that Jack hated losing; at any time. He always needed the taste of victory even on details that had absolutely no importance whatsoever. Such situations made him proud of himself when defeats seemed to remind him of a time he preferred to put behind and forget.

"Just choose one of the solutions. Who cares? It is only a game, anyway. You don't get any trophy at the end."

Grace's remark offended him. In a gasp, he crossed his arms against his chest and looked down at his lap in silence; biting his lower lip. A few seconds passed by before he decided to reply.

"This is unfair. I am gay and all the questions are for straight people. What do I know about their odd, kinky preferences and habits? Karen, what do you do when making love with Stanley?"

At the sound of her name, a wave of heat rushed up her cheeks and she began to laugh nervously. If she could have answered a few weeks before, the situation had changed now and the perspectives as well. She took another sip of vodka instead, stifling a lie into alcohol instead of a fake reply.

"Oh, I am sure that she bites."

This time she stared at Grace but the words didn't come out either. She could feel Will's gaze on her, as embarrassed as she was about the intimate question. He was the only one at the table who would have been able to give a proper answer, to say that she only sighed in the depth of his neck; against his chest. Holding him tight.

But of course he remained quiet.

"Hey, it isn't the Karen Trivia but Love Trivia so you would please concentrate on the generic theme?"

Against all expectations, nobody insisted on her vehement request and Jack finally sighed heavily at the question, moving nervously on the floor.

"Then I would say that they scratch and bite..."

"You are right!"

A bit resigned before her friend's excitement to have properly answered the question, Karen threw the dices nonchalantly. It might have been the alcohol and a couple of other things but she had followed the game from outside since the very beginning, just trying to reply to her own questions; barely paying the slightest attention to her friends' own success. She was tipsy, tired and sad; for having argued with Stan, one more time.

For sleeping with Will in the quiet shadows of the night.

"Oh, forfeit! You got forfeit!"

Jack's exhilaration before her dice result made her jump and after checking her current position on the board, she grabbed a forfeit card then read it out loud.

"French kiss the first, opposite sex person who is standing on your left until the hourglass is over."

It is only when she put the card back under the stack that it hit her mind and she blamed the vodka for the long time it had taken her to realize that the man standing on her left was Will. If she had been sober enough, she would have lied and pretended to read "on her right". After all she made out with Jack all the time in public. It didn't mean a lot anymore.

It didn't rhyme with infidelity, with so many lies.

"What if I refuse?"

Grace stopped giggling, obviously disappointed.

"Oh come on, it is just a kiss! What is happening to you? You usually don't complain about this kind of things, on the contrary. I know that Will might not be your first choice on this but still..."

The words burnt her lips but she remained quiet and swallowed back the fact that she actually wanted nothing but to kiss him in public, to spend time in his arms without this necessary hiding that ruined so many things in the end. She hated the whole situation, all these lies and the way they hurried out of the hotel room as soon as they had been satisfied with their own desires then went back home as if nothing had happened. It left a bitter taste on her mind, something oppressive that was stealing her nights.

Resigned, she turned around and locked her eyes with Will's brown ones. He didn't seem uncomfortable at all but she knew that deep inside, he was dreading this more than anything.

"And... Let's go!"

Her lips found his, a bit shyly at the beginning but very soon she forgot about all the rest and let go of everything. She couldn't help it. As soon as they kissed, the touch stirred up a singular sentiment and she succumbed to it, quietly.

Her hand found his nape as they deepened the kiss and she felt his fingers on her waist. His skin was hot against hers, reassuring enough to make her go on and dare with her very own boldness to cross the limits of her marriage then fall into the nets of an illicit affair.

She saw him three times a week, even on lunch breaks when his schedule allowed it. They had come to the point where they had stopped talking and simply undressed quickly before rushing on each other to enjoy the irrepressible feelings the mere touch could stir up.

Having sex with him had turned vital, a pure logic.

"It is over..."

Reality hit her back harshly and as she heard Grace's voice in the background, her blood turned icy. It might have just been a game _ a ridiculous forfeit _ but she had the feeling they had just made a step in their intimacy before two people whose reaction she dreaded.

"Now, are you satisfied? It is your turn, Gracie."

Though nobody replied and Grace simply grabbed the dices before throwing them on the coffee table a bit coldly.


	17. Rendez Vous

_**Rendez-vous**_** (1985)**

**Movie director: André Téchiné**

**Starring: Lambert Wilson, Juliette Binoche, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Dominique Lavanant**

**Plot: A woman and three men. Nina, who's come to Paris to act and sleeps with any man at hand, meets Paulot, a young estate agent; he's smitten. She also meets Paulot's flatmate Quentin, a compulsive who stalks her. To Paulot's jealous dismay, she's willing to sleep with Quentin, and wants Paulot's friendship. After a desperate act by Quentin, Nina and Paulot share a flat, but she still won't take him as a lover; instead, her energy goes into a production of "Romeo and Juliet" directed by a detached, intense man who becomes her father figure. Quentin's ghost taunts her, Paulot wants to end all contact, and the director plans to return to London. The art of the theater may be her only refuge.**

**Quote: It's a story about love, an emotion you're incapable of feeling. You're too shallow to imagine it, too common to understand it. **

**New York, November 12th, 8pm.**

He had passed the door and she had rushed to him, abandoning her cigarette in the ashtray to savor the taste of his lips. If until then and in all her previous relationships she had showed great control of her feelings _ even if her behavior may have been considered plainly cold at times _ things were different with Will. There wasn't any barrier anymore, any particular wonder and she let go of everything as if it were logical; as if it were meant to be.

Under her sudden embrace he had dropped out his travel bag on the floor and squeezed her waist tight instead, smiling in her mouth.

A whole weekend. Forty-eight hours they would spend together far from the delicacy of their routine. He wouldn't have to check the time then dress up in a hurry to be back home with Grace as if nothing had happened. They would wake up in each other's arms, enjoy the slow passing of the hours and only on Sunday would pack again to retreat to their respective flats.

As soon as she had learned that Stanley would have left for Dallas, the rest had come up easily to their mind. Will would pretend to go with her husband _ for professional purposes _ and since she would be there as well, their friends wouldn't see them for the weekend.

Except they wouldn't leave Manhattan at all. Instead she would grab the keys of one of the empty flats she owned and they would stay there together, just like in Paris when they didn't have to hide themselves, didn't have to pretend anything to anyone.

As the clock on the wall of the office had finally made it to four, she had waved goodbye at Grace in a whirl of smile then hurried up to Morningside Heights to check into the one-bedroom apartment. She owned places all over the city but at least she knew that they wouldn't cross any of their acquaintances in this area; that it would all be safe, and perfect. Just what she needed at the end, a warm place in his arms and the rumor of the traffic below in the street, the lights of Manhattan by night rocking them to sleep.

Their weekend had officially started two hours before but they hadn't moved yet and were still in each other's arms, observing in silence the flames dancing in the fireplace a few feet away; glass of red wine in hand.

They had time and didn't know what to do with it. Since their return to America and the settle down of their affair, they had built their relation over briefness, ephemeral instants and had quickly forgotten about communication. As soon as they passed the door of a hotel room, they undressed each other then made love before giving back the keys to the reception with a slight discomfort. It would have sounded gloomy to most of people _ even themselves in other circumstances _ but when it was all you could get then every second turned into a real blessing.

"A penny for your thought..."

His comment made her laugh, softly. She couldn't remember the last time someone had told her this, or who it was. Her past had turned all blurry in her mind for quite a while now, instinctively enough but Will's words had stirred up a wave of some warm reminiscence, an odd sensation she had had once.

Turning around she cupped his face with her hand then planted a long kiss on his lips; passing her legs around his waist to fully face him.

As she broke apart, her eyes immediately looked for his and she passed her arms around his neck in an offhand manner she hadn't used since a long time. What could she say? It sounded so right.

"You know... I had planned a thousand things to do for us this weekend. Going to the movies, enjoying a drink at some place, going for a walk and I would smile brightly as soon as you would take my hand but now that we are finally there, I... I don't mind about all of this. I just want to stay here, with you. I just want to make love to you, to feel you against me and hold you tight until your last sigh overcomes me; makes me shiver. I just want you, Will."

The words had slid on her lips before hitting the air with such an unusual self-confidence that it made her blush, a wave of heat rushing up to her cheeks. She had never said such a thing to anyone, never let people know what she might have wanted. But it had all come up suddenly, unexpectedly; with a bare honesty.

Though she didn't look down, didn't break eye-contact with him and grabbed his hand instead before leading him to the bedroom in silence.

And for the very first time, she made love to him, leading their caresses _ offering him a thousand kisses_ and holding him tight as he finally sighed in the depth of his neck; stirring up a smile on her lips, a peaceful one.


	18. The Russian Dolls

_**The Russian Dolls**_** (2005)**

**Movie director: Cédric Klapish**

**Starring: Audrey Tautou, Cécile de France, Kelly Reilly, Romain Duris**

**Plot: Xavier is now thirty. No longer a student, he is not yet a well-balanced, fulfilled adult either. His career is unsatisfying: Far from being the renowned novelist he aimed to be he must be content with little jobs such as reporter or ghost writer. His greatest "achievement" in "literature" is his collaboration to the script of a corny TV soap! His sentimental life is not much better, made of one night stands and unfinished romances. It looks as if when he seduces a woman beautiful outside and inside such as Kassia or Wendy he can't keep them. Will he ever bring his life into focus? **

**Quote: What's all this shit about love? How do we get so nuts? The time we waste! When you're alone, you cry, "Will I find her?" When you're not- "Does she love me as much as I love her?" "Can we love more than one person in a lifetime?" Why do we split up? All these fucking questions! You can't say we're uninformed. We read love stories, fairy tales, novels. We watch movies. Love, love, love...! **

**New York, November 1st, 1.30pm.**

"I am getting a divorce. I mean "we". I mean... We had a talk last night, Stanley and I, then came to the conclusion that it would be better like that."

A woman passed in the street pushing an empty stroller. A pacifier had been abandoned on the seat and for some reason Karen imagined the toddler crying _ somewhere in the city _ for not having it with him when needed.

"What?"

Grace's utter perplexity brought her back to the table she was sat at, a cup of coffee in front of her. She liked observing insignificant details when confessing important matters to a third party. It might have been rather coward _ a way to escape from reality _ but it was all she owned at the end, a sort of vague weapon.

"It doesn't work anymore. We tried, over and over but... Obviously all these efforts are vain now. It is time for us to go separate ways and to turn the page. It is a common agreement, ironical enough for it being the only time we didn't really argue."

She laughed but it didn't find any resonance in her attempt to reassure her friend who was staring at her speechless, completely taken aback by the revelation.

"It is okay, we will do just fine. We don't hate each other or anything, you know."

She had wanted to tell Grace first about it; maybe because she was a woman and innately shared a few, unique perspectives about things, about life in general. As much as Jack could be serious at times, she hadn't even imagined one second to confide in him before the others.

Will belonged to another category, a blurry one that an upcoming divorce seemed to complicate even more.

"I didn't know that... I didn't imagine that the situation was so bad between the two of you. And I am sorry for having missed it out when I shouldn't. I... I apologize."

Grace's words touched her a lot more than what she had thought they would in the first place and she hid her reaction behind the large cup of coffee. As much as she never put sugar in it, the drink lacked taste as it made contact with her tongue and she made a face, closing her eyes tight only to realize that a few tears had made their way to the limits of her eyelashes.

"You know that if you need anything... You just have to ask us."

She looked blankly at Grace's hand on hers. The hold was tight, firm but sweet at the same time. All of a sudden someone broke down a glass in the background and made it all tip over, falling down like a house of cards.

She could have counted on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had burst into tears in front of someone but it had never hurt as much as now, in this overcrowded Italian restaurant of Manhattan. The tears were running down her face in silence as she tried hard to avoid her friend's gaze but unable yet to prevent the cries from coming out.

She was cold, exhausted and lost.

"Oh, Karen..."

She found comfort in Grace's arms, the heat of her friend's body against her frail one.

"Don't be worried, you can count on us. And as for the legal part of it, Will won't drop you out."

At the mention of his name, she closed her eyes and bit the inside of her mouth. She would meet him at the end of the day, in theory to speak about the divorce file but she knew what was actually coming up and she dreaded it more than anything now.

…

As she looked around at the room and the few customers scattered over, her decision to cancel the suite to remain in the lounge of the five-star hotel comforted her and she allowed herself to sigh, settling a bit further in her leather armchair.

The afternoon had been long and odd, extremely disturbing but she had enjoyed Grace's presence at the office and the cozy atmosphere the place brought to her confused mind. Rushing midtown to meet Will had only managed to rise her stress, along with her despair.

She took a sip of cognac and saw him arrive, cross the lobby before passing the large doors of the cozy lounge. She waved at him timidly and swallowed back the irrepressible desire to leave.

"So here we are..."

As his hand made contact with hers, she couldn't help shivering but thankfully enough a waiter arrived to their table to take Will's order.

"I will have a dry martini, without olives."

The employee went away, taking with him her last chance to escape from a conversation she dreaded a lot.

"How are you doing?"

"Like a woman about to get a divorce for the third time in her life before even turning forty-five years old."

The sharpness of her comment went straight to Will who laughed a bit uncomfortably. It made her feel guilty. After all it wasn't his fault. It had always been hers, since the very own moment she had kissed him back in Paris.

"Said like this it surely doesn't sound very appealing but think about the good side of this... How we... How we will be free now. No need to hide anymore, no need to lie to anyone. Besides you are the first one who knew that it was coming, and that it was fair enough for both, you and Stanley."

The waiter arrived with the martini, all smile. One more time she looked at him go away with the same desire to follow him, to go anywhere but at this table with Will.

"I don't know, I... I don't like unplanned things like this one. It shouldn't have happened. We don't get married just to hire an attorney a few years later. He said that he wanted a divorce. I didn't find the strength to turn him down, didn't find any reason why we shouldn't either... Especially after what I had done."

"Nobody ever knows how long a relationship is going to last but still, we give it a try because it might be the right one. Just... Just as it is for us now."

"Why me? Why did you not push me away? Why do you want to be with me, Will? You are supposed to only date men... What are you doing with me? It doesn't make sense!"

"I don't know. I might have had other preferences indeed but for some reason, it is different with you. It seems so right, plainly and stupidly right. I can't explain it. I have no word, no idea of what is going on but all day long I think about you and the moment I will find back your arms, your lips against mine. I just want to be with you because this is where I belong, where I feel fine. Because I love you."

His last three words turned her blood icy and she immediately took her hand away from his then looked aside, extremely uncomfortable. Her heart was beating fast, her mouth was dry she could feel the tears rush back to her eyes.

"Karen? Speak to me... Why do you remain quiet like this? So many times you told me that you were sick and tired of hiding, that you wanted nothing but to hold my hand and kiss me in public. You have it now. Please say something..."

"What do you want me to say? I want to go back home, take a bath, have a few drinks and just sweep away this horrible day from my mind."

The words burnt her lips but she didn't try to restrain them either and gained enough self-confidence to look at him in the eyes. He was hurt; she felt relieved, now.

Grabbing her cognac, she let a small laugh escape before rolling her eyes at him then shake her head in exasperation.

"Don't you know who I am, Wilma? After all these years I can't believe that you are surprised. This is plainly sad... We socialites don't end up with people like you. This is not _Pretty Woman_ so I suggest you to get a life. You will never be able to replace Stan."

He never touched his martini. Without a gaze towards her, Will grabbed his briefcase and dropped a bill of twenty on the table before leaving the lounge.


	19. Eight Women

_**Eight Women**_** (2002)**

**Movie director: François Ozon**

**Starring: Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Emmanuelle Béart, Danielle Darrieux**

**Plot: One morning at an isolated mansion in the snowy countryside of 1950s France, a family is gathered for the holiday season. But there will be no celebration at all because their beloved patriarch has been murdered! The killer can only be one of the eight women closest to the man of the house. Was it his powerful wife? His spinster sister-in-law? His miserly mother-in-law? Maybe the insolent chambermaid or the loyal housekeeper? Could it possibly have been one of his two young daughters? A surprise visit from the victim's chic sister sends the household into a tizzy, encouraging hysterics, exacerbating rivalries, and encompassing musical interludes. Comedic situations arise with the revelations of dark family secrets. Seduction dances with betrayal. The mystery of the female psyche is revealed. There are eight women and each is a suspect. Each has a motive. Each has a secret. Beautiful, tempestuous, intelligent, sensual, and dangerous...one of them is guilty. Which one is it?**

**Quote: There is no happy love.**

**New York, December 6th, 8pm.**

Guilt. The sentiment had invaded her in the hours that had followed her conversation with Will a week earlier to never really leave her from then on, stealing her nights away and oppressing her mind with an odd strength. She didn't feel bad but miserable and empty, deprived of a heart that would work properly by itself. The divorce had been finalized but she wasn't free, on the contrary. Like an invisible hand on her, the situation kept her trapped in a net of regrets from which she didn't seem able to escape.

And whenever she saw him, she wished she could have erased everything before starting it all over again without fearing to accept her own feelings.

They barely talked now though it passed unnoticed. Avoiding each other had turned into a bitter game that nobody seemed to really care about. He didn't even look sad or torn, offending her in the idea he might have turned the page a lot more easily than she could even imagine. But it was all she deserved at the end.

Turning her back at her friends, she grabbed a bottle of wine abandoned on the kitchen counter then poured some in a glass. She felt in the way among the laughter and light conversations but she hadn't been able to turn down the offer to spend the evening at his place. She needed to see him, if only from a distance; needed to hear his voice, observe his eyes.

The phone rang in the background. She turned around, made a few steps towards her friends who were sitting on the couch then took a sip of her red wine while her eyes landed on Will. Something happened when she saw his features deepen. Her blood got wrapped up in a whirl of ice and she swallowed hard at the fast pace of her beating heart. Grace and Jack were still laughing on the sofa but she could barely hear them now. It was all about Will's low voice, a blank tone that seemed to announce nothing but the worst.

As he finally put an end to the call, she felt the words rush to her lips. She didn't restrain them. At this moment she knew that it was time to put all the rest aside, to forget about their recent past.

"What is happening?"

Her anxious question put an abrupt end to the laughter and all of a sudden, everyone stared at Will in a disturbing silence. He wasn't smiling, seemed just lost in his thoughts; far ones.

"It is... It is my father. He has just had a heart attack. Sam... It was Sam on the phone, telling me that my mother should call me within ten minutes to tell me which hospital they are taking him to."

At his words, the vivid image of her own father's coffin hit her mind with harshness and made her close her eyes for a few seconds; just the required time to adapt to the violence of the reminiscence. She put down her glass of wine on the table, clenched her fists as a shocked silence filled the room, contrasting sharply with the previous laughter that found a pale echo against the walls.

The pain followed, the exact same one she had felt way back then for the funeral. She was only seven years old but all of a sudden, it had seemed that her life had got broken down. And nothing would be the same anymore.

The next years had turned into an upside down jigsaw she hadn't managed to resolve.

And then it happened. She saw herself moving, walking towards Will with an uncontrollable self-confidence. She stopped a few inches away from him, cupped his face in her hand then locked her eyes with his.

His pain was hers. She understood every single second of it, the latent uncertainty that made life way too fragile.

She kissed him, abandoned herself to the warmness of his lips before deepening the embrace; throwing her arms around his neck as his hands slowly slid on her waist. She only broke apart to finally let the words come out; no mattered it was in public, no mattered the circumstances.

"I love you, Will."

Planting a kiss on his jaw, she plunged her face in his neck and hold him tight against her in the fear to lose him again when she simply couldn't afford it.

"I love you so much... Please forgive me."


	20. Venus Beauty Institute

_**Venus beauty Institute**_** (1999)**

**Movie director: Tonie Marshall**

**Starring: Nathalie Baye, Audrey Tautou, Samuel Le Bihan, Mathilde Seigner**

**Plot: Madam Nadine manages with pride the "Vénus beauté" Salon which offers relaxation, massage and make-up services. The owner and her three beauticians: Samantha, Marianne and Angèle are pros. Contrary to her friend Marianne, who still dreams of the big day, Angèle no longer believes in love. Marie, the youngest of the three employees, discovers love in the hands of a sixty year-old former pilot.**

**Quote: When you smile, I find you handsome. That's because you know my soul.**

**New York, 6th December, 9.30pm**

Sitting down on one of the plastic chairs set in the corridor, she suddenly noticed the heavy discomfort that had probably showed up earlier _ maybe as soon as she had kissed Will and dared to confess her feelings to him _ but they all had got lost in the unusual circumstances too quickly.

The phone had rung, pushed them to break apart and after a few seconds they had found themselves in the street hailing a cab. The journey to the hospital had been very quiet _ wonders and doubts floating in everyone's mind _ and once they had made it to the ER then spoke to Marilyn, life seemed to slowly come back to a normal rhythm.

George was fine. Perhaps it was all what mattered in the end but the minute Will left with his mother to go and speak to the doctors, Karen felt oppressed, uncomfortable while having stayed with her friends. She shouldn't have kissed him like that when the world was already falling apart but one more time her impulsive temper had won over her fragile wisdom and there she was now, facing her lies and the betrayal she had imposed to Grace and Jack.

Concentrating on the white wall in front of her and trying to ignore the brouhaha in the background she felt her friends' gazes on her, all this incomprehension over a fact that couldn't be simpler. Even though it didn't sound right, for a thousand reasons.

"So it was you, the woman."

Grace's low voice sent a shiver down her spine, no mattered there wasn't an ounce of anger in it; just a sort of bitter realization, a blank one. Slowly enough Karen abandoned the contemplation of the wall, let her eyes slide on the floor then up her lap until they stopped on her friend's hand that was holding the plastic chair she was sat on.

"We never planned anything. We never meant to..."

But her sentence got suspended in the air before vanishing in a whirl of shame as Will came back with his mother. They both had a cup of coffee in hand, looked reassured. The tension began to fade away and subconsciously enough, she relaxed on her chair allowing a quiet sigh to come out.

"He is doing fine but this is surely an alert for upcoming issues if he doesn't change his lifestyle. He is running some tests now so... Since it might take a part of the night, you can all go home and I will talk to you tomorrow. I have to fill some papers and all."

Nods accompanied his words and he disappeared again at the corner of the corridor with his mother, leaving her alone with Jack and Grace; and the discomfort came back.

"You should stay with him while we go back home. Besides I have a client to see in the morning."

Grace's comment took her aback and she dropped out all of her wonders to properly look at her friend in the eyes. Grace looked lost, confused and exhausted; perhaps hurt as well. Jack was just behind and had remained strangely quiet, troubled before the situation to say the least.

"No Grace. You should stay here. Will needs you and he will always do. I will meet the client for you. If I am the worst assistant ever for administrative work, I know how to deal with people to make them sign a contract. I am not you to his eyes... And you are all he has."

She had never imagined that it would happen that way; that they would let things under half-words and that it would be enough to seal a quiet, necessary pact. Perhaps apologies didn't have to come out loud to be heard and that a gaze and sincere words resulted enough at the end.

Awkwardly enough she made a step towards Grace, hugged her tight then walked down the corridor feeling oddly satisfied; in peace with whatever had happened that night. She didn't see Will but it didn't sound bad or wrong. She had all the time to call him, tell him all these things she hadn't dared to say to him out loud until now.

With Grace by his side, she knew that he would do just fine.

As she stepped out of the hospital with Jack, a taxi driver waved at them indicating that his car was available for a ride. They climbed on it, shut the door.

Manhattan by night had always been a fascinating scene to her eyes. From the very first day she had moved there to that exact night _ so many years later _ the lights seemed to warm up her heart and gave her a feeling that she was indeed alive, even in the dark.

"So you love him, for real?"

Jack's question had been asked so low that it was almost inaudible under the radio tunes playing on. She tried to look at him but he remained focused on his lap, not accepting any eye contact. As much as she couldn't help getting lost in a shy smile, she finally shrugged and bit her lower lip in a gesture of soft resignation.

"Yes, I do. As odd as it sounds."

"It doesn't sound odd to me."

"Then what do you think about it?"

Jack frowned, surprisingly serious; and far, too far from the cab they were sharing now.

"I think that I need time."


	21. A Very Long Engagement

_**A Very Long Engagement**** (2004)**_

**Movie director: Jean-Pierre Jeunet**

**Starring: Audrey Tautou, Gaspard Ulliel, Dominique Pinon, Chantal Neuwirth**

**Plot: Five desperate French soldiers during The Battle of the Somme shoot themselves, either by accident or with purpose, in order to be invalidated back home. Having been "caught" a court-martial convenes and determines punishment to be banishment to No Man's Land with the objective of having the Germans finish them off. In the process of telling this tale each man's life is briefly explored along with their next of kin as Mathilde, fiancée to one of the men, tries to determine the circumstances of her lover's death. This task is not made any easier for her due to a bout with polio as a child. Along the way she discovers the heights and depths of the human soul.**

**Quote: revenge is pointless. Try to be happy and don't ruin your life for me.**

**New York, December 25th, 4pm**

"You love him, don't you?"

The question made her blush _ smile shyly _ and she abandoned the contemplation of Will to stare at her hands with an obvious embarrassment.

She had always hated talking about her feelings. Even when she was still a child this kind of questions sounded hard to her, mostly because she was afraid of people's reactions; afraid they might laugh at her for saying something improbable and yet true to her mind.

"Why do you ask me that, honey?"

Her rhetorical question made Jack laugh lightly. Sometimes she wished she owned his exuberance and self-confidence she only vaguely copied to let others believe that she was determined. It was a natural gift she had been deprived of and that the years _ all these moments she would have preferred to forget _ had only managed to widen the gap between the appearances and her real persona.

"You haven't stopped staring at him since he left his seat to go and talk to his cousin."

The door separating the kitchen from the living-room produced a stifled sound _ a whirl of quiet wind _ as Marilyn came back with a tray full of cups of coffee and a tea kettle in hands. Nobody seemed to notice her presence but Karen who immediately looked down at her lap.

"It isn't easy, Jack. The whole situation... It is odd and... I don't know, I wish he stayed with me right now."

A few weeks had passed by since George's heart attack. Nobody had protested or come up with some disturbing comment. As much as the situation sometimes set off awkward silences, people seemed to have accepted the relation a lot easier than she would have ever imagined and before she had had time to realize what was happening, Christmas had arrived.

They had been invited over the Truman's house for Will's father's health being still a bit weak and for the very first time she had been introduced to the whole family as Will's fiance when there hadn't been any engagement whatsoever. It was going fast, too much perhaps. She felt dizzy before it all, confused.

"Oh come on, they don't bite! And look at them, they have been pretty welcoming until now."

"I just wish we had had more time to..."

Marilyn offered her a cup of coffee. She accepted then waited eagerly for the woman to go back to the other end of the room before finally completing her sentence to her friend.

"To get used to everything... To see how it goes..."

"You have doubts."

Jack's affirmation made her heart beat faster. She immediately shook her head and plunged her eyes in his blue ones. His words had been full of regrets, a blank tone of voice that had let her a bit ashamed.

"Of course not!"

"Do you want to marry him? Do you want to have children with him? You haven't even moved in with him but took your own apartment instead. How come? Don't you have plans for the two of you? This is how it works when love is involved and that we talk about serious relationships. Not just one night at your place and the next one at his..."

She had never liked reproaches about her choices, her life. But if they usually tended to make her angry this time she was only disarmed, felt slightly panicked before Jack's implicit accusations.

It had taken him a longer time than Grace to fully accept the relationship _ curiously enough _ but little by little he was leaving behind his silence to the boldness of some remarks, some questions as well.

If she had seen his change of behavior as a positive sign until now, his last comments had hurt her a lot more than what she had expected; troubled her.

"But it is all new, Jack. I have just got a divorce and... Damn, three marriages that ended up after a few years at the courthouse. I am tired of this and maybe this is not the solution for me. We haven't talked about any of this until now and anyway, we haven't been dating for so long either so... We have all our time to plan it all. There is no point to rush into things like that. No point at all."

"But it is Will! You have been knowing each other for years so you should know what to expect and what you wouldn't want to live together now. It isn't as if you were some strangers or something. I don't get it. Besides if you are thinking about getting your own family, it might be time to seriously go into it, Karen. No offense but you aren't twenty-five anymore..."

"I don't want to plan tomorrow morning too quickly. Look what it did until now to me. I need time... I don't want to ruin anything because I would have been too impulsive."

A relieving smile played on her lips as Will came back to his original seat by her side. Cupping his face with her hand, she bent over to kiss him.

It was all a matter of time. She knew it. It had always been.


	22. Paris, I Love You

_**Paris: I Love You**_** (2006)**

**Movie directors: Olivier Assayas, Frédéric Auburtin, Wes Craven...**

**Starring: Carole Bouquet, Bruno Podalydès, Marianne Faithful, Miranda Richardson**

**Plot: "Paris, I Love You" is about the plurality of cinema in one mythic location: Paris, the City of Love. Twenty filmmakers have five minutes each; the audience must weaving a single narrative out of twenty moments. The 20 moments are fused by transitional interstitial sequences and also via the introduction and epilogue. Each transition begins with the last shot of the previous film and ends with the first shot of the following film, extending the enchantment and the emotion of the previous segment, preparing the audience for a surprise, and providing a cohesive atmosphere. There's a reappearing mysterious character who is a witness to the Parisian life. A common theme of Paris and love fuses all. **

**Quote: sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone, with whom to share this life.**

**Paris, September 25th, 7pm**

"There was a fog that evening. I remember it because it seemed to be floating a few inches above the cobblestones, just like a ghost. And it caressed my ankles as I walked through it... We sat there, on this bench then contemplated The Eiffel Tower shining in the night. I was cold but I didn't care, because I was with him. I guess this is when I knew that it would never be the same anymore. I was in love with him... So I kissed him."

A year had passed by but under the reminiscence of her bold act, Karen blushed and looked down at her lap trying to hide a smile.

"What happened next?"

"I rushed away."

"You did?"

"Hmm... I rushed away and refused to talk to him for quite a while. He knocked at the door of my suite but I didn't open. I was terrified. Not to love him but to have let him know, do you see what I mean?"

Her eyes landed on Jack as he nodded slowly. They could hear the traffic in the background, a sort of far rumor rocking them peacefully. She felt fine there with him, relaxed.

"And what will happen tonight? Will you also rush away?"

She let a bright laugh escape before biting her lower lip and go to sit down on the bench. Her fingers brushed it subconsciously, as if the wooden seat would talk and tell them both the whole story.

"No, I won't. Of course, I won't. I will leave with him, hand in hand. There won't be any rush. I won't try to escape from him, on the contrary. Because I know that he is in love with me."

"And that's why I will never understand the two of you, why you don't want to get married. As much as your couple is still rather hard to believe, we can't deny it is here and it works. It works very well. I had never seen you so happy, Karen. You have changed. Will has changed. Perhaps the best things come from what we expect the least..."

"What is the point of getting married when you already have all the things you ever wanted? It took me quite a long time to understand this but now that I did, I can tell you that I am not about to forget it."

"Hmm... So I really have to give up any chance over some sort of ceremony? You would have been so beautiful in a wedding dress, though..."

"Believe me, it is better for you to see me in a negligee than in any kind of white dress, honey."

If Jack felt the desire to reply, she didn't let him any time to do so as she stood up immediately when Will and Grace appeared on the other end of the cobblestone path. Instinctively she went to them, to him if she had had to be honest and grabbed his arm before planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Only three hours had passed by since the last time she had been by his side but she had missed him as if a whole decade had wrapped them up in a painful distance from each other. It was ridiculous and she knew it perfectly but she couldn't help it. As a matter of fact, it was getting worse since she had moved in with him.

They reached the bench Jack was still on but lacking room, she sat on Will's lap; smiled as she felt his hand slide on her thigh.

"I thought that you would never make it before the night..."

"The store was crowded and yet Will insisted to buy the bottle of wine there. He is the one to blame."

Rolling her eyes to accompany her comment, Grace took a bottle of red wine out of a plastic bag along with four plastic glasses. The sun was already vanishing in the sky but the colors were still bright and clear. The weather had nothing to do with the one they had had the year before; all this rain and fog, the wind that had reddened their cheeks after a walk through the streets.

Meticulously Karen poured wine in the four glasses, tended three of them to her friends and kept one for herself. A nervous laugh slid on her lips as an awkward silence seemed to suddenly float over their heads and as if looking for some sort of shield, she settled further against Will.

"So... This is where everything began. That's why it was important for Will and I to be here, today. For our first anniversary... And thank you for having always been by our side, in spite of everything. I... You are very important to me and you will always be even though I don't say it very often. What can I say? You know me..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Grace and Jack, she turned around before kissing Will's cheek then whispered against his hear the three words she still preferred to keep for their intimacy.

"I love you."

He kissed her back.

They cheered.


End file.
